The  Life  and  Works  of 
FRIEDRICH  HEBBEL 


T.  M.  CAMPBELL,  Ph.D. 


BOSTON 
RICHARD  G.   BADGER 

THE   GORHAM   PRESS 


Copyright,  1919,  by  Richard  G.  Badger 


All  Rights  Reserved 

11 K 


Made  in  the  United  States  of  America 


The  Gorham  Press,  Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


TO 

A.   K.   C 


434432 


PREFACE 

No  apology  need  be  offered  for  presenting  to  the  Eng- 
lish-reading public    an   account    of   the   life   and   works    of 
Friedrich   Hebbel.     The  only   apology  in  place  is   for  the 
errors  in  fact  and  judgment  that  no  doubt  have  been  made 
in  the  course  of  the  work.     Hebbel  still  remains   a  much 
debated  writer.     Even  his  enemies  concede  a  certain  unique 
grandeur  to  his  efforts,  while  his  adherents  believe  that  these 
efforts  were,  in  large  measure  if  not   completely,  crowned 
with  success.     We  see  him  now  against  the  background  of  a 
largely  discredited  philosophy,  the  systems  of  Schelling  and 
Hegel.     What  seems,  however,  to   connect  him  with  those 
systems  is  far  less  important  than  the  original  intensity  of 
his  own  nature.     He  did  not  draw  his  teaching  from  books. 
He  stands,  it  is  fair  to  assert,  at  the  beginning  of  modern 
dramatic   literature.     Apparently   without   direct   influence 
on  Ibsen,  he  none  the  less  anticipated  Ibsen.     He  is  the  pro- 
found and  lonely  forerunner,  more  comprehensive  and  con- 
structive than  Ibsen  and  all  who  have  come  after  him.     The 
value  of  the  person  is  indeed  a  leading  motive  in  all  his  work, 
but  he  does  equal  justice  to  the  power  of  vital  conservatism. 
The  Individual   and  the  Universal — these  are   the  two   ex- 
tremes  between   which   he    endeavors    at    every   moment    to 
establish  a  true  relation.     To  him  the  very  existence  of  the 
individual  is  a  never  ending  problem,  and  this,  together  with 
the    search    for    that    upon    which    the   individual    can    find 
assured  rest,  makes  up  the  general  elements  of  his  tragedy. 
The  individual  has  no  license  for  ruthless  expansion,  while 
the  social  order,  always  the  ultimate  factor  in  any  crisis, 
cannot   become    tyrannical   without   dissolution    and    subse- 
quent rebirth.     A  just  estimate  of  our  powers  in  their  rela- 
tion to  the  powers  above  and  around  us,  and  the  passion 
for  filling  our  sphere,  while  resigning  what  is  beyond  it — 
such  is  the  poet's  definition  of  individuality,  his  conception 

3 


4  Preface 

of  a  true  education.  Only  then  is  the  real  identity 
established  in  man  between  morality  and  necessity. 

For  a  new  message  Hebbel  also  wished  to  evolve  a  new 
form.  On  the  one  hand  he  desired  to  fuse  the  evolution  of 
character  with  the  unexcelled  composition  of  the  Greek 
drama;  and  on  the  other,  while  striving  for  something  like 
Shakesperean  vividness  in  the  main  scenes,  he  intended  to 
accord  greater  room  than  Shakespeare  to  the  general  forces, 
or,  to  use  his  own  expression,  to  the  "divine  antagonist." 
However  much  we  may  dispute  about  the  value  of  this  new 
form,  which  is  explained  at  some  length  in  the  course  of 
our  discussion,  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  has  remained  largely 
Hebbelian.  It  has  found  no  followers  of  note,  and  perhaps 
it  is  destined  not  to.  Meanwhile  the  poet's  fame  rests 
securely  on  the  reality  of  his  characters  and  the  depth  of 
his  insight  into  life. 

The  particular  problems  debated  in  Hebbel's  plays  will 
be  analyzed  in  the  following  pages.  Among  the  most  strik- 
ing is  that  of  woman,  for  Hebbel  is  a  woman's  poet.  This 
statement,  however,  should  not  convey  any  suggestion  of 
sentimentality,  for  no  poet  was  ever  further  from  that 
than  this  rough-hewn  Schleswig-Holsteiner.  The  sternest 
idealism  breathes  through  his  tragedies,  which  make  scarcely 
the  slightest  concession  to  popular  taste.  He  is  a  woman's 
poet  in  the  sense  that  he  has  an  almost  unerring  penetration 
into  the  mysteries  of  her  soul,  and  that  he  portrays  women 
who  are  fully  conscious  of  their  individual  rights  over 
against  unjustified  demands.  But  here  again  the  speculative 
cast  of  his  genius  leads  him  to  ultimate  relations  and  not  on 
the  paths  of  propaganda.  It  is  characteristic  of  his  women 
that  they  are  nearly  always  superior  to  his  men.  From 
Judith  to  Kriemhild  they  are  endowed  with  his  penetrating 
intelligence  and  his  inflexible  moral  demands  in  all  essentials. 
Even  Nora  cannot  stand  comparison  with  Mariamne  or 
Rhodope.  And  as  for  woman  in  both  weakness  and  strength, 
Mary  Magdalene,  which  is  said  to  have  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  Ibsen,  is  perhaps  the  most  powerful  tragedy  ever 
written  on  that  theme. 

Hebbel's  life,  like  his  writings,  was  a  struggle  for  expres- 


Preface  5 

sion.  He  was  an  indomitable  fighter,  and  but  for  that  we 
should  never  have  heard  of  him.  Most  men  would  have 
succumbed  to  what  he  went  through  with.  He  risked  every- 
thing for  his  art — isolation,  poverty,  starvation,  even  the 
happiness  of  olher  people.  His  struggle  measures  for  us 
the  force  of  his  convictions.  His  personality  is  not  a  lov- 
able one,  nor  is  his  life  free  from  the  blight  of  egotism. 
Egotism  indeed- —according  to  his  own  teaching  the  pitfall 
of  each  individual — nearly  became  his  curse.  But  he  shows 
the  abundant  and  inflexible  energy  of  genius,  he  compels 
our  admiration,  and  his  life  and  his  works  are  full  of  instruc- 
tion to  those  who  examine  them. 

The  chief  source  of  Hebbel's  biographers  is  his  extensive 
Diary,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  books  in  all  literature. 
In  addition  there  is  a  large  fund  of  letters  to  draw  on.  His 
intimate  friend,  Emil  Kuh,  in  a  monumental  biography  of 
the  poet,  also  gives  much  documentary  evidence.  Hebbel's 
life,  indeed,  whether  in  its  sins  or  its  virtues,  is  recorded  with 
unusual  fullness.  The  following  work  is  based  on  an  inde- 
pendent examination  of  the  chief  records,  as  far  as  that  did 
not  seem  superfluous.  References  to  the  extensive  literature 
of  the  subject  are  made  where  due  in  the  course  of  the  discus- 
sion, or  else  in  the  bibliographical  appendix. 

I  wish  to  express  my  thanks  to  Professor  O.  E.  Lessing, 
of  the  University  of  Illinois,  for  his  helpful  criticism,  and 
also  to  Professor  H.  C.  Davidsen,  of  Cornell,  for  placing  his 
collection  of  monographs  on  Hebbel  at  my  disposal. 

Lynchburg,  Virginia 
July  26,  1918. 


• 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.   Surroundings  and  Early  Development     .     .  9 

II.   A  Desperate    Venture  —  Hamburg,    Heidel- 
berg and  Munich 23 

III.  The  Beginnings  of  Fame — Judith 44 

IV.  Genoveva 61 

V^  A  Comedy  and  a  Book  of  Verse  ......  72 

VI.   The  Widening  Sphere:     Copenhagen,  Paris, 

a  Middle-Class  Tragedy 84    ^ 

VII.   Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama  .  102 

VIII.   The  Turning  Point!    Paris,  Italy,  Vienna    .  120 

IX.   The  Transition!     Two  Tragedies,  Two  Es- 
says, and  a  Book  of  Verse 136 

X.   The  Revolution — Herod  and  Mariamne    .     .     .  160^ 

XL   Some  Disappointments.    Heinrich  Laube  and 

the  Critics 172 

XII.   Agnes  Bernauer 186   * 

XIII.  Gygesy  a  Volume  of  Stories,  Mother  and  Child  .  199 

XIV.  The  Nibelungen  and  Demetrius 213 

XV.   Theory  and  Practice.     Style.     Hebbel  and 

the  Stage 228 

XVI.   Conclusion 246 

Bibliography 253 

Index 259 


7 


The  Life  and  Works  ot 
Friedrich  Hebbel 

CHAPTER  I 

SURROUNDINGS  AND  EARLY  DEVELOPMENT 

FRIEDRICH  CHRISTIAN  HEBBEL  was  born  March 
18,  1813,  in  Wesselburen  in  Schleswig-Holstein.  This 
village  lies  in  the  heart  of  the  Marsh,  that  narrow  and  fertile 
strip  of  land  which  follows  the  shore  of  the  North  Sea. 
Reaching  out  eastward  toward  the  rolling  country,  or  the 
so-called  Geest,  the  Marsh  extends  in  one  unbroken  stretch 
of  level  fields.  On  the  north,  west,  and  south,  near  enough 
to  be  heard  in  the  village  when  the  surf  is  wild,  lies  the  ocean, 
held  in  check  by  a  double  line  of  dikes  and  the  unceasing 
watchfulness  of  the  people.  The  landscape  of  Ditmarsh,  the 
province  in  which  Wesselburen  is  situated,  is  one  of  strange, 
appealing  monotony.  On  the  west  the  horizon  coincides, 
as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  with  the  low  line  of  the  dike,  and 
on  the  east  there  is  always  the  same  level  stretch  of  land — 
field  upon  field  of  waving  grain,  rich  meadows  dotted  with 
herds  of  cattle,  prosperous  farm-houses,  built  on  slight 
artificial  elevations  and  surrounded  by  clusters  of  trees. 
The  country,  ever  in  the  best  of  cultivation,  is  drained  by 
long  straight  ditches,  which  at  the  same  time  serve  as 
boundaries,  and  narrow  paths  lead  the  pedestrian  for  miles 
through  the  lonely  fields  from  one  farm  or  one  village  to 
another. 

Ditmarsh  is  a  country  rich  in  tradition,  historical  and 
imaginative.  The  famous  Niebuhr,  one  of  its  sons,  declared 
that  he  would  have  written  the  history  of  Ditmarsh,  if  he 
had  not  written  that  of  Rome.  A  certain  racial  pride  is 
characteristic  of  its  people,  and  was  shared  by  Hebbel  in 

9 


10  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

due  proportion.  When  he  wrote  of  his  life,  he  was  usually 
at  pains  to  connect  himself  with  his  country  and  its  general 
tracts.  In  i  gfcgtAh  :jf  himself  for  a  French  critic,  Saint 
Rene  Taillandier,1  he  emphasized  the  isolation  of  his  native 
country  from  the  main  stream  of  civilization ;  the  sacredness 
of  blood  revenge;  the  Draconian  laws,  condemning  to  be 
burned  alive  the  woman  who  had  lost  her  virtue;  the  sturdy 
republicanism  of  the  peasantry,  who  long  resisted  the  dukes 
of  Holstein,  the  Danish  kings,  and  even  the  emperor  of 
Germany,  until  finally  subjected  in  1559.  Though  many  of 
the  rude  customs  he  mentions  were  a  thing  of  the  past,  the 
plain  institutions  and  the  racial  character  of  the  people  were 
still  well  preserved  in  Hebbel's  time.  It  was  therefore  not 
unnatural  that  Taillandier,  in  his  essay  on  the  poet  for  a 
French  audience,  should  refer  to  the  "semi-barbarous" 
province  of  his  birth. 

The  Ditmarsh  folk  naturally  saw  the  climax  of  their 
history  in  the  great  Thermopylasan  defense  at  Hemming- 
stedt,  where  in  the  year  1500,  five  hundred  peasants,  with 
the  aid  of  the  elements,  destroyed  a  force  of  thirty  thousand 
Danes  who  threatened  their  liberty.  The  struggle  of  these 
people  with  the  ocean  also  furnished  opportunity  for  heroic 
deeds  that  would  live  in  the  memory  of  posterity,  while  the 
lonely  stretches  of  land  and  sea,  shadowed  by  northern 
mists,  gave  rise  to  many  a  weird  story.  "The  history  of 
Ditmarsh  as  history,"  writes  Hebbel,  "does  not  really  live 
among  the  people,  and  this  is  scarcely  possible,  for  with  the 
exception  of  the  battle  of  Hemmingstedt  it  offers  few  events 
and  no  characters  as  plain  and  definite  centers  about  which 
everything  moves.  But  it  lives  as  legend,  as  unconnected 
and  often  incomprehensible  tradition.  The  child  hears  in 
early  youth  of  strong  men  who  withstood  kings  and  princes, 
he  hears  of  expeditions  on  sea  and  land  against  mighty 
cities,  like  Hamburg  and  Lubeck,  and  in  me  at  least  arose 
very  early  by  reason  of  the  consciousness  of  having  de- 
scended from  such  men,  a  feeling  of  pride  resembling 
that  which  swells  the  breast  of  the  young  nobleman  when 


1  Br.  VIII,  Aug.  9,  1852. 


Surroundings  and  Early  Development  11 

he  thinks  of  his  ancestors.  I  shuddered  with  deep 
horror  when  I  heard  accidentally  of  sacrificial  feasts  and  the 
blood-stained  altar,  which — so  report  said — could  still  be 
seen.  And  all  the  anxiety,  but  also  all  the  humility  and 
trust  in  God  of  which  my  heart  was  capable,  awoke,  when  in 
the  stormy  autumn  nights  I  heard  my  parents  or  the 
neighbors  describe  .  .  .  the  terrible  storms  that  so  often 
devastated  the  land,  overthrew  the  houses,  killed  man  and 
beast,  and  rendered  the  fields  unfruitful  for  a  long  period  of 
time.  I  was  about  eleven  years  old  when  such  a  flood  broke 
over  us  in  the  February  of  1825. "2  The  legendary  atmos- 
phere of  his  home  and  the  intimate  moods  of  its  natural 
beauty  find  slight  embodiment  in  Hebbel's  works.  The 
passive  and  fragile  delicacy  of  mood  was  less  his  affair  than 
the  profound  and  virile  discussion  of  human  tragedy.  But 
he  was  not  indifferent  to  the  heroic  qualities  of  the  Ditmarsh 
peasantry,  the  race  of  kings,  whose  unbending  will  lives 
directly  in  some  of  his  verse,  and  hovers,  like  a  stern  genius, 
over  his  dramatic  production. 

Neither  of  Hebbel's  parents  was  mentally  above  the 
average,  nor  was  brilliance  evident  in  any  of  their  connec- 
tions, and  they  shared  none  of  the  prosperity  of  the  Dit- 
marsh peasantry.  His  father,  Claus  Friedrich  Hebbel, 
from  the  neighboring  village  of  Meldorf,  was  a  brick  mason, 
whose  wife,  Ant  je  Margarethe  Schubart  of  Wesselburen,  had 
brought  him  a  little  house  and  lot  as  her  dowry.  Of  those 
first  impressions  of  childhood  that  become  an  indelible  record 
in  the  individual  mind,  Hebbel  has  given  us  an  excellent 
account  in  an  opening  chapter  of  what  was  to  have  been 
his  autobiography.  This  account,  entitled  My  Childhood, 
a  model  in  clearness  and  precision,  extends  unfortunately 
only  to  his  sixth  year.  The  little  house,  with  its  three 
apartments,  one  occupied  by  the  family,  one  rented  out  to 
Claus  Ohl,  a  mason,  and  his  hunchback  wife,  the  third  to  a 
day  laborer  and  his  wife,  Meta,  a  huge  woman  with  a 
Biblically  severe  face;  the  long  winter  evenings,  when  his 
father  sang  hymns,  and  even  worldly  songs,  or  Meta  told 


aT.  II,  2521. 


12  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

ghost  and  witch-stories  with  such  vividness  that  broomstick 
and  chimney  took  on  a  new  significance ;  the  terrible  prophe- 
cies of  Jeremiah  as  read  by  Frau  Ohl;  the  ever  friendly 
Claus,  who,  even  when  short  of  bread  and  smoking  tobacco, 
sang  and  whistled  for  the  boys'  amusement,  who,  on  Sun- 
days between  the  sermon  and  dinner,  gave  them  a  sip  of 
his  whisky  on  the  sly,  and  bought  them  little  presents  on 
credit;  Claus's  two  vagabond  brothers,  who  loafed  in  his 
rooms  all  the  winter,  and  told  the  youngsters  impossible 
lies  of  their  adventures  with  robbers  in  deep  woods — such 
were  among  the  unforgettable  impressions  of  his  childhood. 

In  these  surroundings  was  placed  a  boy  of  supersensitive 
imagination,  for  whom,  in  the  twilight,  the  beams  of  the 
ceiling,  the  furniture  in  the  room,  or  even  his  familiar  stick- 
horse,  took  on  dreadful,  fantastic  shapes.  An  ugly  tailor  was 
in  his  eyes  a  supernatural  horror;  he  dared  not  look  at  a 
bone,  and  the  word  "rib"  he  scratched  out  of  his  reading 
book  because  of  the  repulsive  images  it  called  up  before  his 
inner  eye.  The  sight  of  an  old  well  with  dilapidated  covering 
in  a  neighbor's  yard  caused  him  endless  shudderings,  dreams 
tormented  him  and  robbed  him  of  sleep,  while  a  nutcracker 
opening  its  jaws  in  his  hands  seemed  to  him  a  live  demon, 
throwing  him  into  a  spasm  of  fear. 

When  he  was  four  years  old,  his  school  education  began. 
The  school,  a  private  affair,  was  presided  over  by  an  old 
maid  named  Susanna,  tall  and  masculine,  yet  with  kindly 
blue  eyes.  A  table  full  of  books  occupied  the  center  of  the 
room,  and  here  Susanna  sat,  smoking  a  clay  pipe  and  enjoy- 
ing a  cup  of  tea.  She  punished  with  a  ruler  and  rewarded 
more  rarely  from  a  bag  of  raisins  by  her  side.  Considering 
his  four  years,  the  boy  learned  a  good  deal  in  this  school. 
He  conceived  a  violent  passion  for  a  little  girl,  which  lasted 
till  his  eighteenth  year,  and  he  also  began  to  notice  the 
malice  in  people  and  the  injustice  that  exists  among  them. 
As  for  book-learning,  he  was  so  well  instructed  in  reading 
that  he  became  the  pride  of  his  mother  and  old  Claus,  and 
was  allowed  to  read  the  evening  prayers,  which  he  did  with 
great  satisfaction.  Because  of  his  youth  Susanna  would 
not  impart  to  him  her  ultimate  secret,  the  art  of  writing. 


Surroundings  and  Early  Development  13 

But  he  memorized  the  Ten  Commandments  and  the  Cate- 
chism of  Luther,  who  stood  without  historical  distinction 
in  his  mind  next  to  Moses  and  Jesus.  Such  was  his  equip- 
ment when,  in  his  sixth  year,  he  entered  the  primary  school 
just  established  in  Wesselburen  by  the  state.  Over  this  new 
institution  presided  Franz  Christian  Dethlefsen,  a  man  to 
whom  Hebbel  paid  high  tribute  as  influencing  his  early  train- 
ing, especially  in  the  direction  of  stylistic  correctness. 

In  his  sixth  year  also  another  significant  change  took 
place  in  his  life,  influencing  the  fortunes  of  the  whole  family. 
His  father  had  gone  security  on  a  bad  debt  and  now  fell  into 
the  hands  of  a  heartless,  even  malicious  creditor,  who  took 
away  their  homestead.  Again  the  boy  had  an  opportunity, 
dearly  bought  by  experience,  to  learn  the  ways  of  the  world. 
Before  this  they  had  been,  on  however  modest  a  scale,  in  the 
landlord  class.  Some,  at  least,  especially  in  the  boy's  little 
world,  looked  up  to  them  and  respected  them,  if  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  they  had  a  productive  pear  tree  in  their 
garden.  Now,  however,  they  were  eyed  askance  by  the 
well-to-do,  and  hailed  as  equals  by  the  inmates  of  the  poor- 
house.  Then  began  a  period  of  bleakest  poverty,  with  its 
rankling,  dwarfing  bitterness.  Hebbel's  parents  lived  in 
harmony  as  long  as  there  was  enough  to  eat  in  the  house, 
which  was  in  the  summer,  when  work  was  plentiful.  But  in 
the  winter,  employment,  and  hence  bread,  was  scarce.  Then 
"anxious  scenes"  often  occurred.  The  father  is  described 
as  lively  and  talkative  outside  of  the  house,  morose  and 
serious  inside  of  it.  The  mother  was  kind-hearted  and  im- 
petuous, a  woman  with  tender  blue  eyes,  who  wept  easily 
when  excited.  Christian  Friedrich  was  her  favorite,  while 
the  younger  Johann  was  preferred  by  her  husband. 

The  boys  perhaps  never  suffered  actual  hunger  at  home, 
but  their  mother  often  gave  them  her  bread.  On  the  wall 
hung  a  picture  of  an  epicure,  surfeited  at  his  xf ull  table,  while 
a  dog  sniffed  contemptuously  at  a  piece  of  bread  on  the  floor. 
"We'll  take  dinner  with  that  fellow,"  the  father  used  to  say, 
and  the  boy  declared  in  after  life  that  he  never  envied  any 
person  as  much  as  he  envied  that  dog.  Only  at  the  Christ- 
mas season  was  this  gloom  lightened  for  a  single  day.    "How 


14  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hehbel 

dreary  and  desolate  my  childhood  was!"  writes  Hebbel  in 
his  Diary,  Sept.,  1838.  "My  father  really  hated  me,  and 
I  could  not  love  him.  A  slave  of  marriage,  bound  with  iron 
chains  to  poverty,  to  bare  necessity,  unable,  in  spite  of  .  .  . 
his  utmost  exertions  to  advance  a  single  step,  he  even  hated 
joy.  Its  entrance  to  his  heart  being  shut  off  by  thorns  and 
thistles,  he  could  not  endure  the  sight  of  it  on  the  face  of  his 
children.  A  merry  .  .  .  laugh  was  a  crime  in  his  eyes, 
mockery  of  himself.  Inclination  to  play  was  frivolity  .  .  ., 
any  delicacy  about  hard  labor  he  considered  inborn  degen- 
eracy .  .  .  My  brother  and  myself  he  called  his  wolves 
.  .  .  ,  rarely  could  we  eat  a  piece  of  bread  without  being 
told  that  we  did  not  deserve  it.  And  yet  my  father  was  a 
well-meaning  man,  true  and  good  at  heart.  If  I  were  not 
convinced  of  that,  I  should  never  have  written  this  about 
him.     But  poverty  had  taken  the  place  of  his  soul." 

This  brief  passage,  written  down  in  bitterness  of  spirit, 
gives  a  significant  view  of  Hebbel's  youth.  It  was  he  him- 
self who  showed  a  delicacy  about  hard  labor,  and  who 
steadily  resisted  all  efforts  to  make  him  take  up  his  father's 
trade,  for  which  he  had  no  aptitude  and  no  inclination. 
Here  his  mother's  influence  supported  him.  She  sided  with 
her  son,  insisted  that  he  should  attend  school  regularly,  kept 
his  clothes  neat  by  constant  patching,  and  incurred  many 
unpleasant  scenes  for  intervening  between  him  and  his 
father.  The  poet's  own  testimony  written  in  his  Diary, 
September,  1838,  upon  the  news  of  her  death,  runs  in  part 
as  follows :  "She  was  a  good  woman,  whose  good  and  less 
good  qualities  seemed  to  me  to  be  woven  into  my  own  nature. 
In  common  with  her  I  have  my  high  temper,  my  flaring-up 
and  no  less  my  ability  .  .  .  quickly  to  forget  and  forgive 
everything.  Though  she  never  understood  me,  and,  con- 
sidering her  education  and  experience  could  not  understand 
me,  yet  she  must  have  had  some  presentiment  of  my  inner- 
most nature,  for  it  was  she  who  protected  me  continually 
against  the  hostility  of  my  father  .  .  .  herself  preferring 
to  endure  his  severity  rather  than  expose  me  to  it." 

In  school  Hebbel  was  a  diligent  and  ready  pupil,  and 
being  eager  to  learn,  was  soon  in  advance  of  the  others  of 


Surroundings  and  Early  Development  15 

his  age  and  surroundings.  Already  he  showed  that  tend- 
ency to  read  widely  to  which  he  owed  the  breadth  of 
horizon  that,  in  spite  of  his  unsystematic  training,  he  finally 
acquired.  Dethlefsen  supplied  him  with  books.  From  his 
sixth  to  his  thirteenth  year  he  was  in  Dethlefsen's  school, 
and  after  that  he  received  private  instruction  from  his 
master.  But  the  period  of  anything  like  regular  schooling 
was  now  at  an  end,  for  in  his  fourteenth  year  his  father  died, 
and  he  was  compelled  to  look  about  for  employment.  The 
family  was  in  such  reduced  circumstances  that  furniture  had 
to  be  sold  in  order  to  cover  the  burial  expenses.  And 
eleven  years  later,  when  the  poet  was  in  Munich,  starving 
on  bread  and  coffee,  his  mother  was  buried  on  borrowed 
money,  secured  by  her  last  few  possessions. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  death  of  his  father  re- 
moved a  serious  hindrance  between  the  struggling  young 
genius  and  that  distant  goal  toward  which  he  was  steadily 
moving,  though  through  devious  ways.  Thanks  to  the 
good  offices  of  Dethlefsen,  he  now  found  employment  in  the 
house  of  an  official  corresponding  roughly  to  the  magis- 
trate of  a  district.  This  man  was  named  Mohr.  He 
was  a  person  whose  income,  education,  and  official  standing 
made  it  possible  for  him  to  lord  it  over  most  of  his  neighbors, 
and  not  being  a  native  of  Wesselburen,  he  made  full  use  of 
his  privilege.  As  an  official,  he  was  capable  and  orderly,  in 
his  air  and  manners  he  was  the  conscious  aristocrat,  and  as 
a  human  being  he  was  superficial  and  pedantic.  He  was 
destined  to  become  Hebbel's  bitterest  memory,  and  later,  in 
one  of  the  most  calmly  scathing  letters  ever  written,  to 
receive  at  his  hands  an  unenviable  immortality.  The  condi- 
tions on  which  he  received  the  bricklayer's  son  into  his 
service  were  full  time  for  board  and  clothes.  Wash  had  to 
be  done  for  him  at  home.  His  clothes  were  to  be  made  from 
those  Mohr  had  laid  aside,  and  the  boy,  who  had  hitherto 
gone  bareheaded,  was  now  able  to  wear  a  hat.  He  was 
expected  to  run  errands  and  also  to  do  any  copying  he  was 
capable  of.  His  ability  for  this  work  was  noticeable,  and 
he  improved  so  rapidly  that  he  was  soon  intrusted  with  more 
important  tasks,  such  as  making  extracts  from  writs  of  sum- 


16  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

mons,  examining  witnesses  and  taking  down  preliminary 
evidence.  In  this  work  he  learned  the  orderly  habits  of  his 
superior,  and  it  must  also  be  added  that  Mohr  gave  him 
access  to  his  library.  Finally  Hebbel  came  to  do  for  Mohr 
the  work  of  a  secretary,  receiving  a  small  compensation  in 
money. 

Grave  disadvantages  offset  these  benefits  derived  from 
his  new  position.  Chief  among  them  were  the  impressions 
of  the  criminal  side  of  life  received  in  too  tender  an  age  by  a 
sensitive  nature.  They  may  indeed  have  furnished  him  a 
store  of  knowledge  about  human  nature,  which  stood  him  in 
good  stead  in  his  dramatic  work  in  his  later  years  of  isola- 
tion, but  they  could  not  fail  to  hasten  and  deepen  his  tragic 
outlook  on  life.  They  took  away  still  more  of  the  bright 
privilege  youth  should  have  of  enjoying  without  reflection. 
Too  early  for  the  good  of  his  character  or  his  genius,  he  saw 
behind  the  "painted  veil  which  those  who  live  call  Life,"  and 
its  happy  illusions  vanished  before  they  had  rejoiced  his 
heart.  Mohr  made  no  effort  to  understand  his  secretary.  A 
reasonable  degree  of  human  sympathy  from  him  would  have 
made  Hebbel  happy.  At  first  the  boy  regarded  him  as  a  kind 
of  superior  being,  impressed  especially  by  his  aristocratic 
manners.  It  is  said  that  he  imitated  Mohr's  way  of  walking 
and  thus  acquired  a  peculiarity  which  he  retained  during  the 
rest  of  his  life.  But  he  gained  none  of  that  confidence  and 
companionship  to  which  he  believed  his  intellectual  qualities 
entitled  him,  and  gradually  his  hopes  were  changed  to  bitter- 
ness. In  Mohr's  eyes  he  was  and  remained  the  poor  labor- 
er's son.  He  ate  with  servants  and  slept  with  the  coachman, 
even  when  the  coachman  was  suffering  with  spotted  fever. 
He  had  even  to  repel  the  suggestion  that  he  marry  a  girl 
whom  Mohr  had  compromised.  On  a  person  of  his  nature 
such  treatment  necessarily  inflicted  wounds  he  could  never 
forget.  To  this  conscious  and  prolonged  humiliation  he 
later  attributed  his  awkwardness  and  lack  of  social  ease,  and 
it  then  seemed  to  him  that  the  discrepancy  between  his  in- 
tellectual development  and  his  social  status  in  Mohr's  home 
was  the  greatest  misfortune  of  his  life.  v  At  any  rate  it  was 
one  injury  he  never  forgot  and  never  forgave. 


Surroundings  and  Early  Development  17 

But  there  is  already  noticeable  in  him  that  determination 
which  is  among  the  characteristic  features  of  his  life;  in 
spite  of  all  outer  discouragements  he  worked  incessantly  on 
his  inner  development.  He  had  begun  early  to  exercise  his 
talent  for  writing,  but  his  first  poetic  awakening  he  dates 
from  his  fourteenth  year  when  hearing  his  mother  read  a 
hymn  of  Gerhardt.  His  own  early  attempts  show  the  in- 
fluence of  the  hymn  book  as  well  as  the  popular  song.  From 
now  on  he  began  to  appear  in  print,  chiefly  as  the  author  of 
verse,  in  the  Ditmarsh  and  Eider stedt  Messenger,  published 
in  Friedrichstadt.  Almost  from  the  beginning  he  was  under 
Schiller's  influence,  writing  rhetorical  poems  to  various  ab- 
stractions, such  as  memory,  virtue,  freedom,  and  reveling 
in  italics  and  exclamation  marks.  Rivaling  these  themes  in 
his  estimation  were  others  of  a  gloomy  and  horrible  nature, 
such  as  the  lament  of  Cain,  or  the  ghastly  punishment  of  a 
faithless  lover.  Among  the  other  poets  he  had  read  were 
Burger,  Heine,  Salis  Seewis,  Matthisson  and  especially  Les- 
sing,  whose  rhymed  epigrams  he  imitated.  Some  of 
Goethe's  poetry  he  must  have  read  also,  though  without 
penetrating  its  mysteries  at  that  time.  Besides  the  evidence 
of  the  records  themselves,  we  have  his  word  for  it,  that 
Schiller  was  his  first  great  master.  This  did  not  last  long, 
however,  for  as  early  as  the  beginning  of  1831  he  threw  off 
Schiller's  yoke.3  He  tells  us  that  this  step  was  brought 
about  by  a  ballad  of  Uhland,  which  he  chanced  to  read,  The 
MinstreVs  Curse.  From  this  ballad  he  learned  that  lyric 
poetry  does  not  deal  with  the  abstractions  nor  arise  by  way 
of  reflection,  but  is  an  immediate  product  of  the  mind,  both 
in  matter  and  form  of  expression.  At  the  same  time  no  poet 
could  have  been  more  likely  than  Uhland  to  awaken  in  Heb- 
bel  that  feeling  for  terseness  of  expression  which  was  one  of 
the  native  virtues  of  his  talent.  Uhland's  influence  is 
chiefly  noticeable  in  the  ballads  that  Hebbel  now  wrote. 
Such  a  change  of  style  cannot  of  course  be  immediately 
complete,  so  we  find  Schiller's  imagery  continued,  and  also 


«W.  VII,  Introduction. 


18  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

the  distichon  for  the  loftier  epigrams.  This  last  named 
form  became  one  of  his  permanent  possessions. 

Gradually  he  was  working  out  an  independent  style. 
From  the  first  we  are  aware,  in  these  attempts  at  expression, 
of  a  very  definite  and  decided  personality,  of  the  natural  im- 
pulse of  a  strong  and  peculiar  will,  not  yet  conscious  of  its 
proper  direction.  It  was  in  his  verse  that  he  first  attained 
artistic  independence.  A  small  number  of  his  Wesselburen 
poems  found  a  place  in  the  final  collection  of  1857. 

He  also  tried  his  fortune  in  other  fields.  Two  insig- 
nificant attempts  at  stories,  which  appeared  in  the  Messen- 
ger (1830,  1831,  respectively)  scarcely  deserve  mention. 
Holion,  a  Night  Scene,  an  harassing  dream  in  plain  imita- 
tion of  Ossian  and  Jean  Paul  Richter,  was  one ;  the  other,  a 
succession  of  horrors  entitled  the  Fratricide.  Equally  un- 
important, for  their  own  sakes,  were  his  dramatic  efforts. 
Mirandola,  an  unpublished  fragment,  composed  probably  in 
1830,  is  a  thoroughly  boyish  production,  remarkable,  how- 
ever, for  its  combination  of  bald  reflection  and  unrestrained 
passion.  It  shows  on  every  page  the  influence  of  Lessing 
and  Schiller.  Mirandola,  the  hero,  betrayed  by  his  friend, 
Gomatzina,  was  to  have  become  a  bandit,  avenging  himself 
on  society  in  the  manner  of  Carl  Moor.  This  motive  of 
friend  betraying  friend  at  the  price  of  great  inner  torment, 
is  used  later  in  the  tragedy  of  Genoveva,  in  the  character  of 
Golo.  Mirandola  breaks  off  abruptly  in  the  midst  of  an  im- 
possible intrigue.  The  Patricide,  a  single  complete  scene 
(published  in  1832),  is  no  better,  though  quite  different  in  its 
analytic  method  and  extreme  terseness.  It  is  a  fate-tragedy 
full  of  crowding  horrors,  and,  strangely  enough,  conceived 
as  accompanied  by  music.  Hebbel's  real  beginnings  in  the 
tragedy,  his  proper  field,  were  still  years  in  front  of  him. 

A  decided  improvement  in  the  narrative  is  the  Painter, 
written  in  1832.  Hebbel  is  here  under  the  influence  of 
Hoffmann,  who,  according  to  his  testimony,  pointed  him  to 
the  true  source  of  all  writing:  life.  Both  in  the  character- 
ization and  the  atmosphere,  he  strives  to  reach  his  model, 
and  is  successful  chiefly  in  the  first  particular.  An  eccen- 
tric old  painter  is  the  hero,  living  alone  in  an  isolated  house, 


Surroundings  and  Early  Development  19 

apparently  with  only  a  dog  for  his  companion.  But  at 
night  the  singing  of  a  woman  is  heard  there,  interrupted  by 
the  old  man's  mocking  laughter.  It  is  the  voice  of  his 
daughter,  whom  he  keeps  imprisoned  in  the  house.  His 
wife  has  been  unfaithful  to  him,  he  has  killed  her,  and  his 
mind  is  unbalanced.  When  his  talented  pupil,  later  the 
famous  Raphael,  discovers  his  secret  and  wishes  to  marry 
his  daughter,  he  disappears  with  her  never  to  be  seen  again. 
The  central  motive  is  his  jealous  guardianship  of  his 
daughter.  Hebbel  uses  the  same  situation  later  in  a  story, 
Barber  Zitterlein,  and  in  a  drama,  Julia. 

Both  the  Painter  and  the  Robber  Bride  (1833)  were  pub- 
lished in  a  Hamburg  fashion  journal,  to  which  Hebbel  began 
contributing  in  1832.  From  the  point  of  view  of  composi- 
tion, the  Robber  Bride  is  less  effective  than  the  Painter. 
The  author  switches  about  from  one  person  to  another,  until 
the  possibility  of  concentration  is  hopelessly  sacrificed.  As 
the  title  suggests,  the  story  is  in  the  sphere  of  robber  ro- 
manticism. It  contains  motives  and  characters  that  had 
appealed  strongly  to  Hebbel's  youthful  imagination.  They 
appear  in  his  ballads  and  even  in  one  drama,  Julia,  as  late  as 
1846.  Here  again  in  Gustav,  who  kills  the  woman  he  loves 
because  he  cannot  possess  her,  and  who  wants  to  "earn  the 
hell  he  receives,"  we  recognize  a  preliminary  study  for  Golo 
in  Genoveva.  The  problematic  side  of  the  material  is  em- 
phasized both  in  this  unfortunate  character  and  in  the 
peculiar  situation,  where  without  knowing  it,  he  pledges  his 
faith  to  his  own  deadly  enemy.  In  general  this  story  is 
also  strongly  influenced  by  Hebbel's  reading. 

Hebbel's  companions  soon  began  to  see  in  him  a  literary 
light,  and  turned  to  him  when  occasional  pieces  were  in  de- 
mand. On  the  whole  he  seems  to  have  led  a  gay  life  with 
the  young  people  of  his  age  in  Wesselburen.  He  had  a 
number  of  love  affairs :  with  Emilie  Voss,  Doris  Voss,  her 
sister,  to  whom  he  was  even  engaged;  with  Wiebke  Elwers, 
who  was  called  his  "lady" ;  with  Margareta  Carstens  and  her 
sister  Luise;  and  also  with  Hedwig  Schulz,  who  came  to 
Wesselburen  with  a  troupe  of  actors.  In  her  memory  he 
later  wrote  one  of  his  best  love  poems.     There  is  little  direct 


20  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

information  about  this  period  of  his  life.  A  diary  begun  in 
Wesselburen,  he  unfortunately  destroyed.  From  his  letters, 
however,  a  somewhat  closer  view  of  him  may  be  obtained. 
Those  written  to  one  of  his  young  friends,  Hedde,  mingle 
business  with  verses,  epigrams,  and  deeper  problems  of  all 
sorts.  We  see  a  mind  doing  its  prescribed  tasks  practically 
and  definitely,  yet  inevitably  turning  to  more  congenial 
fields.  Mohr  appears  in  these  letters  as  the  "Prince,"  a 
thrust  at  his  assumed  superiority.  We  see  the  bitterness  of 
genius  hampered  by  circumstances,  yet  at  the  same  time  a 
strong  undertone  of  youthful  hope  and  confidence.  Already 
he  knows  that  flattery  and  subservience  are  the  qualities 
which  lead  to  position  and  prosperity,  that  his  own  self- 
reliance  and  talent  will  arouse  opposition,  but  the  life  and 
death  struggle  with  poverty,  pessimism,  and  the  persistent 
inertia  of  the  literary  world  had  to  come  before  his  native 
resolution  should  be  nearly,  though  never  quite,  disheartened. 

Hebbel  early  realized  that  he  was  not  made  for  idyllic 
conditions  of  life.  Already  his  vision  was  ranging  steadily 
beyond  Wesselburen  to  the  great  centers  of  humanity.  He 
thought  of  becoming  an  actor,  he  says  he  would  have  joined 
a  band  of  robbers  in  order  to  escape  from  his  narrow  sphere. 
In  the  winter  of  1831-32  he  managed  a  short-lived  stage  in 
Wesselburen,  where  the  plays  of  Korner,  among  others, 
were  given,  and  even  Shakespeare  attempted.  He  went  to 
Hamburg  to  consult  Lebrun,  director  of  the  City  Theatre, 
about  becoming  an  actor,  but  he  received  no  encouragement. 
At  any  rate  we  find  that  he  soon  gave  up  this  plan  and  began 
taking  Latin  lessons  from  a  friend  in  hopes  of  getting  ready 
for  the  universities.  A  letter  to  Uhland  brought  kindly 
advice  to  stay  where  he  was,  another  to  Oehlenschlaeger,  the 
Danish  poet,  remained  unanswered;  in  fact,  never  reached  its 
destination.  His  opportunity  was  to  come  in  a  different 
way,  through  the  good  services  of  Amalia  Schoppe,  the 
editor  of  a  journal  of  fashion  in  Hamburg  (Neue  Pariser 
Modeblatter). 

Amalia  Schoppe,  the  wife  of  a  lawyer  in  Hamburg,  was, 
at  the  time  she  began  to  take  an  interest  in  Hebbel,  over 
thirty  years  of  age.     She  had  been  unhappily  married,  had 


Surroundings  and  Early  Development  21 

lost  her  husband  in  1829,  and  only  recently  a  son.  She 
was  a  popular  and  prolific  writer,  and  before  her  death  in 
America  in  1851,  she  was  the  author  of  one  hundred  and 
thirty  volumes^  She  edited  the  Neue  Pariser  Modeblatter 
from  1827  to  1833,  contributed  to  all  kinds  of  papers,  wrote 
novels,  and  was  a  person  of  considerable  information  and 
influence.  Like  the  inexperienced  magician  who  can  sum- 
mon spirits  but  not  control  them,  she  brought  Hebbel  forth 
from  his  seclusion  without  knowing  what  to  do  with  him  when 
he  arrived.  But  to  her  is  due  the  credit  for  aiding  him  to 
advance  his  next  laborious  step. 

Since  1832  Hebbel  had  been  sending  contributions  of 
prose  and  verse  to  her  paper.  In  this  way,  thanks  to  her 
fortunate  readiness  of  sympathy,  he  came  into  correspond- 
ence with  her  and  wrote  her  of  his  aspirations.  After 
various  plans  had  been  proposed,  and  what  seemed  to  him 
the  interminable  space  of  two  years  had  passed  (1832-34), 
she  reported  that  some  of  her  friends,  impressed  by  his  verses 
on  the  battle  of  Hemmingstedt,  would  contribute  a  small  sum 
of  money  toward  his  education.  He  was  to  come  to  Ham- 
burg and  complete  his  preparation  for  the  universities.  It 
is  noteworthy  that  Mohr  refused  to  lend  any  assistance 
toward  this  end.  He  confined  himself  to  a  carefully  written 
testimonial.  In  this  he  recognizes  HebbePs  talent,  his  in- 
dustry in  his  work,  his  zeal  in  learning;  he  declares  that  he, 
Mohr,  had  endeavored  to  turn  the  young  man's  attention 
especially  to  history  and  geography.  He  mentions  Heb- 
bePs literary  productions  with  tolerance,  observing  that 
several  of  them  were  written  in  good  style  and  had  met  the 
approval  of  the  public.  He  also  testified  that  Hebbel  gave 
his  earnings  to  support  his  mother,  and  expressly  declared 
him  deserving  of  aid  in  his  efforts  to  secure  a  higher  educa- 
tion. In  fact,  as  a  testimonial  it  was  all  that  Hebbel  could 
have  desired. 

The  letters  that  Hebbel's  benefactress  wrote  to  him  in 
this  time  of  anticipation  were  well  meant,  but  exasperating 
in  tone.  His  board  was  to  be  furnished  him  free  by  his 
patrons  in  Hamburg;  that  is,  he  was  to  eat  at  their  tables. 
He  was  therefore  given  detailed  instructions  in  advance  as 


22  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

to  his  behavior.  He  was  to  adopt  a  purer  accent,  not  to 
talk  much — above  all,  not  to  ridicule  anything  or  to  criticise 
Hamburg  in  any  way,  and  to  leave  as  soon  as  the  meals  were 
concluded.  When  Hebbel  received  this  counsel,  he  was  a 
sensitive  young  man  of  twenty-one,  unusually  mature  in  spite 
of  his  meager  facilities,  and  a  lyric  poet  with  an  individual 
style.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  his  feelings.  But  he  had  no 
choice,  so  he  left  Wesselburen  for  Hamburg,  February,  1835. 


CHAPTER  II 

A  DESPERATE  VENTURE.      HAMBURG,  HEIDELBERG,  AND  MUNICH 

A  CERTAIN  pastor  Schmalz,  of  Altona,  was  the  sole 
trustee  of  the  slender  funds  to  be  placed  at  Hebbel's 
disposal.  To  him  the  poet  had  to  apply  for  money ;  he  also 
had  to  render  him  a  minute  account  of  expenditures.  Unfor- 
tunately here  was  another  man  who  could  not,  or  did  not, 
penetrate  Hebbel's  somewhat  difficult  nature,  and  hence  ac- 
corded him  little  sympathy.  Hebbel's  worst  fears  were  real- 
ized. His  dependence  on  charity  was  no  less  galling  than  he 
anticipated.  "The  way  to  the  free  tables  was  each  time  an 
execution  of  my  inner  man."  "For  a  meal  people  expected 
thanks  till  Julgment  Day."  Nor  were  his  patrons  satisfied 
with  him.  This  was  inevitable.  It  was  impossible  for  a  ma- 
ture mind,  thronged  with  plans  for  creative  work,  to  be  satis- 
fied with  learning  boys*  exercises  in  Greek  and  Latin  forms. 
He  received  free  instruction  from  Gravenhorst,  a  college 
student,  who  applied  beginners'  methods,  and  Hebbel  con- 
fessed that  the  Me,  ilia,  Mud,  inspired  him  with  thoughts  of 
suicide.  The  language  lessons  meant  for  Hebbel  soon  be- 
came lessons  in  esthetics  for  Gravenhorst,  and  it  was  natural 
that  the  poet  did  not  progress  rapidly.  To  make  matters 
all  the  worse,  his  relations  with  Amalia  Schoppe  were  almost 
completely  disrupted  through  the  evil  offices  of  a  hypocrit- 
ical friend,  Leopold  Alberti. 

The  most  important  event  in  his  life  during  his  first 
Hamburg  period  was  the  friendship  he  formed  with  Elise 
Lensing.  He  made  her  acquaintance  by  the  chance  of  occu- 
pying a  room  in  the  house  of  her  stepfather,  Ziese,  with 
whom  she  was  living.  At  this  time  Elise  Lensing  was  thirty- 
one  years  old,  and  natural  bonds  attracted  the  two  to  each 
other.  The  bitterness  of  her  childhood  had  even  surpassed 
that  of  his,  and  like  him  she  was  lonely  among  her  own 
people.     By  a  chance  she  had  received  her  education  and 

2S 


24  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

social  finish  in  one  of  the  better  seminaries  of  the  day.  This, 
as  was  quite  natural,  deeply  impressed  Hebbel,  coming,  as  he 
did,  from  lower  social  environments.  In  all  questions  of 
etiquette  she  became  his  authority.  But  she  was  far  too 
sensible  to  wish  to  extend  this  authority  to  matters  of  the 
spirit.  Sympathy,  encouragement,  comfort — these  quali- 
ties the  poet  found  in  her  for  the  first  time  in  full  measure, 
and  to  her  humanity  he  attributed  his  "spiritual  regenera- 
tion." He  accounted  his  association  with  her  as  his 
salvation  in  Hamburg,  where  his  proud  nature  necessarily 
was  subjected  to  many  humiliations.  In  her  company  he 
spent  his  only  free  and  happy  hours,  and  when  he  left  Ham- 
burg his  letters  to  her  became  his  principal  correspondence. 
In  a  literary  way  Hebbel  was  not  inactive  during  the 
year  he  spent  in  Hamburg.  He  continued  writing  lyric 
poems,  some  of  which  were  published  in  the  influential 
Morgenblatt,  edited  by  Hermann  Hauff  in  Stuttgart.  Hith- 
erto he  had  published  a  few  stories  in  the  Ditmarsh 
Messenger  and  in  Amalia  Schoppe's  paper.  Now  he  wrote 
what  he  called  his  first  story,  Barber  Zitterlein,  and  had  it 
published  (October,  1836)  in  Laube's  Mitternachtszeitung. 
Zitterlein  is  a  study  of  the  approach  of  insanity.  The  hero, 
forced  by  circumstances  to  give  up  higher  interests  and  as- 
sume the  trade  of  barber,  concentrates  all  his  spiritual 
energy  in  the  love  of  his  wife.  Upon  her  death  this  love  is 
transferred  to  his  daughter,  in  whom  he  sees  his  wife  rein- 
carnated. His  conviction  of  the  reality  of  this  reincarna- 
tion is  a  great  step  toward  insanity.  When  he  sees  that  his 
daughter  loves  his  apprentice  he  loses  his  senses  completely. 
Later  he  imagines  that  she  is  married  to  the  devil,  but  the 
sight  of  her  perfectly  human  child  causes  him  to  realize  that 
this  notion  is  insane.  He  thus  discovers  his  own  insanity 
and  asks  to  be  taken  to  the  madhouse.  This  is  the  first 
of  HebbePs  stories  to  show  real  independence  of  style.  We 
are  still,  however,  more  than  once  reminded  of  Hoffmann, 
and  Werner  has  shown  considerable  influence  of  the  now 
forgotten  author,  C.  W.  Contessa.1     For  two  other  stories 


W.  VI,  p.  XVII. 


A  Desperate  Venture  25 

written  in  Hamburg,  Weiss  (Mr.  Haidvogel  and  his  Family) 
and  Johann  (Paul's  Most  Remarkable  Night),  he  found  no 
publisher.  They  appeared  many  years  later  (1855)  in  a 
collection  of  his  stories,  in  revised  form  and  under  other 
titles. 

Hand  in  hand  with  his  practice  went  his  theorizing. 
This  is  one  of  his  most  characteristic  qualities.  Few  writ- 
ers of  such  pronounced  genius  have  been  equally  concerned 
as  Hebbel  with  understanding  themselves.  He  began  a  new 
diary  on  March  23,  1835,  and  in  this  we  see  him  gradually 
formulating  his  leading  theories  of  poetry.  He  had  an 
opportunity  to  expound  them  at  length  in  a  literary  club 
founded  by  college  students  in  Hamburg.  We  have  an  im- 
portant paper  he  read  before  this  company  on  the  dramas 
of  Theodor  Korner  and  Heinrich  von  Kleist,  in  which  he 
recognized  Kleist  as  a  dramatist  of  high  order  and  assigned 
a  much  lower  position  to  Korner — a  valuation  now  gener- 
ally accepted,  but  surprising  to  his  audience.  Also  from 
his  reviews  of  other  contributions  we  are  enabled  to  trace 
the  gradual  maturing  of  his  esthetic  and  philosophical  ideas. 
In  the  latter  respect  he  was  tending  toward  a  naive 
pantheism. 

After  a  year  in  Hamburg,  Hebbel  decided  to  leave  that 
city  for  the  University  of  Heidelberg.  This  move  was  much 
opposed  by  some  of  his  patrons,  on  the  grounds,  valid 
enough  as  far  as  they  went,  that  his  preparation  was  in- 
adequate. Hebbel's  own  instincts  were  truer.  He  realized 
that  his  was  an  exceptional  case,  and  that  he  could  no 
longer  afford  to  waste  time  on  formal  discipline  suited  to  a 
different  age  in  life  and  now  lost  to  him  forever.  He  there- 
fore insisted  on  his  plan.  It  was  in  March  of  1836  that 
Hebbel  set  out  for  his  new  destination,  making  the  trip,  as 
was  his  habit,  mainly  on  foot.  Before  turning  southward, 
however,  he  went  to  Wesselburen  to  visit  his  mother  for  the 
last  time.  He  was  never  to  see  her  or  his  native  village 
again. 

From  Easter  till  September  of  the  year  1836,  Hebbel 
was  in  Heidelberg.  Though  not  allowed  to  matriculate  as 
a  regular  student,  he  was  given  the  right  to  attend  certain 


26  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

lectures.  He  heard  the  famous  Thibaut,  who  took  a  kindly 
interest  in  him,  recognized  that  he  was  not  born  to  the  law, 
and  advised  him  to  discontinue  that  study.  This  counsel 
coincided  with  Hebbel's  own  feelings,  and  in  giving  up  law, 
he  resolved  once  for  all  to  devote  his  entire  energies  to  the 
development  of  his  literary  talent.  He  lived  mostly  to  him- 
self, his  chief  associate  being  a  young  student  named 
Rousseau,  who  looked  up  to  him  as  a  master.  This  ac- 
quaintance developed  into  a  close  friendship,  in  which 
Hebbel  as  the  older  and  more  mature  was  the  dominant 
person,  Rousseau  being  a  receptive  and  willing  disciple. 
Hebbel  moulded  him  easily.  He  found  in  him  an  ardent 
admirer  of  Riickert  and  Schelling,  a  "young  man  who  sat  in 
judgment  on  Goethe,"  but  who,  at  the  end  of  three  days,  dis- 
trusted philosophy,  considered  Riickert  fantastic  and 
Goethe  divine.  The  poet's  attitude  to  philosophy  in 
Heidelberg  was  evidently  a  superior  one. 

Hebbel's  isolation  had,  besides  the  outward  circum- 
stances of  his  poverty,  far  deeper  causes  within  him.  He 
found  enough  problems  in  his  own  mind  to  keep  him  busy. 
The  vein  of  his  genius  was  difficult  to  work,  and  he  was  con- 
scious of  an  imperative  mission  to  bring  that  treasure  to 
light.  With  a  dogged  determination  he  set  himself  to  the 
task,  and  he  meant  to  succeed  by  his  own  worth  alone,  with- 
out any  of  the  self-advertising  and  journalistic  methods 
characteristic  of  the  younger  literary  leaders,  generally 
known  as  the  Young  Germans.  For  most  of  them  he  had 
little  respect,  and  to  their  opinions  he  made  no  concessions. 
Though  still  entirely  obscure,  he  believed  firmly  that  his  time 
would  come.  To  Elise  Lensing  he  wrote,  that  if  God  cared 
for  the  "sparrows  (Gutzkow  and  Wienbarg),"  he  need  have 
no  fear  for  himself. 

The  brief  stay  in  Heidelberg  was  rich  in  lyric  poetry. 
Hebbel's  verses  now  flow  with  a  spontaneity  that  shows  his 
assured  mastery  of  the  medium,  at  least  in  his  best  mo- 
ments. It  is  striking  that  even  his  lyric  poems  have  not 
solely  to  do  with  the  phenomenal  world,  especially  with  any- 
thing incidental  or  episodical.  A  chief  axiom  of  his  was, 
that  all  art  must  give  a  concrete  symbol  of  the  universal. 


A  Desperate  Venture  27 

Hence  we  find  a  number  of  these  Heidelberg  poems  that 
might  be  described  as  metaphysical,  in  no  bad  sense.  They  ) 
show  us  a  mind  incessantly  playing  about  the  ultimate 
problem  of  existence,  with  a  very  definite  preference  for  a 
pantheistic  explanation.  Their  theme  is  the  interrelation 
and  interaction  between  universal  and  individual  life,  and  in 
the  poet  himself  the  presence  of  infinity  seems  like  a  burning 
flame.  In  the  Night-Song  it  is  the  shuddering  question  that 
arises  in  the  heart  of  the  individual  grown  conscious  of  its 
infinitesimal  self  over  against  an  infinite  world.  The  uni- 
versal expanse  suggested  by  the  sight  of  the  stars,  threatens 
to  overwhelm  him  in  its  onrush  from  every  side.  The  lamp  I 
of  life  flickers  from  these  ethereal  waves,  and  he  petitions! 
sleep  to  draw  about  him  "the  protecting  circle."  In  En-  \ 
lightenment  the  source  of  inspiration  is  felt  to  be  a  flaming-' 
down  of  the  spirit  into  the  individual  heart,  for  that  moment! 
an  identity  between  the  two,  while  the  poem  entitled  Exist-\ 
ence  represents  the  actual  unity  and  interpenetration  of  all 
life-forms.  These  subjects  do  not  spring  from  reflection 
in  any  abstract  sense.  They  are  the  product  of  the  emo- 
tions. They  are  the  best  key  to  their  author's  soul,  which, 
in  its  first  real  expression,  is  thus  revealed  to  us  as  possessed 
of  something  like  a  special  organ  for  the  emotional  realiza- 
tion of  the  universal.  Along  with  such  poems,  we  find  ex- 
pressions of  the  poet's  despair,  the  fear  that  all  his  efforts 
will  prove  to  be  merely  the  struggle  for  an  epitaph,  verses 
that  he  later  included  in  a  cycle  under  the  title,  To  Pain  Its 
Dues.  Rarely  some  cheerful  and  fleeting  moment  is  caught 
in  poetic  mood,  or  the  tender  recollections  of  childhood  are 
reflected,  as  particularly  in  the  masterful  Boy's  Sunday.  In 
this  poem,  one  of  Hebbel's  best,  we  are  given  an  intimate 
view  of  the  deep  religious  impressions  of  his  first  years. 
Early  on  Sunday  morning  the  boy  goes  to  the  house  of  God, 
all  alone,  hoping  to  see  God  there  face  to  face.  For  is  it 
not  His  House?  But  once  within  the  sanctuary  he  is  afraid 
to  open  his  eyes,  and  returns  home,  with  resolution  to  be 
bolder  the  next  time. 

Two  stories  were  written  in  Heidelberg,  though  neither 
was  published  until  nearly  twenty  years  later.     The  more 


28  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

important  of  these  was  Anna,  which  Hebbel  said  was  the  first 
of  his  stories  to  inspire  him  with  respect  for  his  dramatic- 
epic  talent.  Just  how  far  the  original  form  varied  from  the 
one  later  published  is  uncertain,  but  this  version  shows  con- 
siderable influence  of  Heinrich  von  Kleist.  In  his  paper 
on  Kleist  and  Korner  before  the  club  in  Hamburg,  Hebbel  had 
praised  especially  in  Kleist's  narrative  art  the  logical  de- 
velopment of  terrible  events  from  an  insignificant  beginning. 
He  had  in  mind  the  story  of  Michael  Kohlhaas,  where  the 
starting  point  is  the  theft  of  two  horses  from  Kohlhaas  by  a 
nobleman.  The  peasant  insists  on  his  rights,  being  met  each 
time  by  a  new  wrong,  and  meeting  this  in  turn  with  renewed 
defiance.  He  loses  all  he  holds  dear,  property  and  family, 
but  persists  until  a  rebellion  is  back  of  him.  The  entire 
social  and  legal  injustice  of  the  age  is  uncovered  as  the  story 
proceeds.  Hebbel  pursues  the  same  inflexible  course  in  Anna, 
though  here  the  story  is  only  a  few  pages  in  length.  From 
the  brutal  treatment  accorded  her  by  her  master,  to  the 
catastrophe  that  destroys  castle,  village,  and  herself,  events 
move  with  a  swift,  inexorable  force.  The  matter-of-fact, 
chronicle  style  of  the  narrative,  suppressing  all  personal 
sympathy  or  any  other  emotion  on  the  author's  part,  the 
violent  passions  of  the  characters,  with  their  terse,  abrupt, 
impetuous  expression — all  this  reminds  us  of  Kleist.  From 
a  later  reference  in  his  Munich  letters,  we  know  that  Hebbel 
especially  admired  the  dramatic  intensity  of  that  author's 
stories,  and  here  we  find  him  clearly  striving  to  attain  the 
same  quality.  And  it  must  be  admitted  that  he  does  attain 
it — only  too  well.  He  fails  to  give  the  reader  any  contrast- 
ing moments  of  repose,  as  does  Kleist  in  his  briefest  and  most 
terrible  stories,  so  that  we  are  overwhelmed  by  the  onrush  of 
events.2 

Hebbel' s  efforts  while  in  Heidelberg  to  find  publishers 
were  unavailing.  Gutzkow  could  not  use  the  Anna  for  the 
Grenzboten.  The  publishers  refused  a  collection  of  stories, 
and  from  the  Morgenblatt  he  had  no  reply  to  his  contribu- 


*  See  Kleist  and  Hebbel.    A  Comparative  Study.    The  Novels.    Dis- 
sertation (Chicago)  by  Henrietta  K.  Becker,  1904. 


A  Desperate  Venture  29 

tions.  They  never  reached  their  destination,  as  he  later 
discovered,  and  the  same  fate  overtook  his  letter  to  Uhland 
asking  permission  to  dedicate  to  him  a  collection  of  poems — 
for  which  no  publisher  had  been  found. 

In  Heidelberg  Hebbel  seems  to  have  made  a  beginning  of 
his  efforts  to  understand  painting.  He  visited  the  museum 
with  his  friend,  Rousseau,  and  recorded,  with  customary 
frankness,  in  his  Diary,  that  he  could  do  nothing  but  stare 
around  like  Reuben  in  the  city.  He  could  say  nothing  but 
empty  phrases.  His  relation  to  the  plastic  arts  was  never 
particularly  vital,  even  after  he  had  become  acquainted  with 
their  finest  examples.  But  it  may  well  be  that  his  decision 
to  leave  Heidelberg  for  Munich  was  to  some  extent  influ- 
enced by  the  reputation  of  that  city  as  an  art  center.  Also 
he  had  been  told  that  the  cost  of  living  was  lower  in  Munich, 
and  he  says  himself  that  he  hoped  to  discover  new  ground 
there  in  journalism.  On  September  12,  1836,  therefore,  he 
set  out  for  the  Bavarian  capital.  He  was  on  foot,  ac- 
companied by  Rendtorf,  a  student  whom  he  had  met  in 
Hamburg. 

Without  financial  aid  from  Elise  Lensing,  Hebbel  would 
not  have  been  able  to  make  this  new  venture.  He  received 
the  money  with  reluctance,  hoping  soon  to  return  it.  Pass- 
ing through  Stuttgart,  he  visited  Hauff,  editor  of  the 
Morgenblatt,  and  brother  of  the  famous  novelist.  He  also 
paid  his  respects  to  the  poet  Gustav  Schwab,  who  gave  him 
a  letter  to  Uhland.  Schwab  complimented  his  poems — "a 
matter  of  indifference  to  me,"  says  Hebbel,  "as  I  need  no 
external  test  of  my  poems."  Schwab  also  urged  him  to 
work  up  the  history  of  his  native  Ditmarsh  for  literary 
purposes,  a  plan  he  had  already  considered,  and  one  that 
occupied  him  for  some  time  afterward.  A  visit  to  Uhland 
in  Tubingen  proved  disappointing  in  the  extreme.  Next  to 
Goethe,  Hebbel  honored  Uhland  most  among  German  poets, 
but  he  found  a  man  whose  personal  appearance  and  impres- 
sion were  insignificant.  He  declared  that  Uhland  conversed 
on  the  simplest  topics  with  inconceivable  difficulty.  From 
this  experience  he  drew  a  characteristic  resolution :  never  to 
approach  any  other  human  being  with  a  feeling  of  diffidence. 


30  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

Hebbel  reached  Munich  on  September  29,  1836,  and  his 
first  letter  to  Elise  Lensing,  dated  the  following  day,  he 
signs:  "No  longer  law  student,  but  man  of  letters."  The 
year  1837  he  begins  with  a  prayer  and  a  summary.  His 
prayer  is  that  the  new  year  may  bring  him  a  great  subject  as 
a  fit  medium  of  expression  for  the  wealth  of  inner  life  ferment- 
ing within  and  threatening  his  destruction.  In  his  summary 
he  records  that  he  has  won  little  in  the  way  of  position  and 
knowledge,  but  a  higher  insight  into  his  own  nature,  a  better 
view  of  the  world  and  life,  a  deeper  conception  of  art  and  a 
firmer  grasp  on  the  mysteries  of  style.  And  also,  probably 
through  Goethe's  influence,  a  nearer  approach  to  nature. 
The  writers  that  have  exercised  the  greatest  influence  over 
him,  he  mentions  in  order:  Goethe,  Borne,  and  Jean  Paul 
Richter.  And  finally  he  adds :  "I  have  also  made  a  little,  a 
very  little  progress  in  the  art  of  considering  myself  a  human 
being  when  in  the  presence  of  others — an  art  that  I  lost  in 
my  painful  and  disgraceful  relations  in  Ditmarsh." 

The  Munich  period  of  his  life,  somewhat  more  than  two 
years  and  a  half,  was  one  of  bitterness  and  desperate  combat. 
The  whole  story  lies  open  before  us  in  the  letters  to  Elise 
Lensing.  While  he  was  compelled,  by  virtue  of  his  own 
nature,  to  struggle  for  inner  light  and  artistic  power,  he 
was  condemned  by  circumstances  to  the  severest  isolation 
and  poverty.  His  few  visits  to  the  house  of  Rousseau's 
elegant  relations  could  only  emphasize  the  distance  that 
really  separated  him  from  such  association.  Very  soon, 
too,  he  discovered  that  he  could  earn  practically  nothing 
with  his  pen.  What  he  had  to  offer  might  compel  recogni- 
tion in  the  future,  but  it  would  not  fill  his  purse  in  the 
present.  As  for  hack  work,  he  resolved  not  to  do  that  if  he 
could,  but  frankly  added,  that  he  could  not  if  he  would. 
And  this  was  literally  true.  Few  men  have  been  less  suited 
to  such  activity  than  Hebbel.  It  has  been  said  that  he 
earned  enough  money  in  Munich  to  sole  his  shoes.  And  it  is 
pathetic  to  read  his  Diary  entrance  for  June  27,  1837,  that 
he  has  received  his  first  money  from  Cotta's  Morgenblatt 
(Stuttgart)  for  correspondence  and  poems.  "The  golden 
side  of  poetry,"  he  adds !     The  amount  was  enough  to  pay 


A  Desperate  Venture  31 

his  expenses  for  somewhat  over  a  month,  but  his  expenses 
were  exceedingly  modest.  From  an  account  of  his,  October, 
1837,  we  see  that  he  lived  for  about  twenty  gulden  a  month. 
His  room,  furnished,  cost  him  six  gulden.  More  than  half 
of  the  money  he  mentions  came  from  Elise.  The  corre- 
spondence he  sent  to  Stuttgart,  consisting  of  five  or  six 
articles,  from  October,  1836,  to  April,  1838,  is  not  particu- 
larly good.  The  writer  is  more  interesting  than  his  com- 
munications. The  latter  have  nothing  of  the  garrulous 
grace  and  wit,  so  characteristic,  for  example,  of  Heine,  and 
Hebbel  realized  that  a  man  who  could  visit  neither  theater 
nor  concert,  nor  even  frequent  the  restaurants,  was  in  no 
position  for  such  efforts.  Hebbel  was  too  busy  with  him- 
self, his  genius  ran  too  much  to  the  depths  for  good 
journalism.  His  description  of  the  devastating  plague  of 
cholera  (Feb.,  1837),  which  he  fortunately  escaped,  is  dis- 
appointing in  the  extreme.  When  he  does  get  an  excep- 
tional look  into  the  theater,  however,  he  writes  interestingly. 
As  far  as  literary  production  goes,  these  years  were  still 
years  of  preparation,  broadly  considered.  Hebbel' s  dramas 
were  all  merely  hovering  about  the  fringes  of  his  mind.  The 
numerous  plans,  an  Alexander,  a  Napoleon,  a  Luther,  and 
especially,  a  Joan  of  Arc,  remained  unexecuted.  His  actual 
efforts  were  devoted  to  finding  an  independent  style  in  the 
narrative,  as  he  had  done  in  the  lyric.  These  efforts  were 
doomed  in  the  main  to  failure.  The  work  that  occupied 
most  of  his  attention  was  a  humorous  study,  entitled  Schnock, 
in  the  manner  of  Jean  Paul  Richter.  As  far  as  the  formal 
side  of  their  talents  is  concerned,  two  more  dissimilar  writers 
could  hardly  be  found:  Jean  Paul,  with  his  diffuse,  capri- 
cious abundance;  and  Hebbel  with  his  need  for  the  highest 
precision.  Though  not  without  a  critical  eye  for  the  vague- 
ness of  many  of  Jean  Paul's  characters,  especially  the 
women,  he  read  him  with  enthusiasm  at  that  time.  What 
attracted  him  in  Jean  Paul  was  the  originality  and  grandeur 
of  conception,  the  depth  of  humor,  as  embodied  in  those  phil- 
osophic, half-mad  characters,  the  Leibgebers  and  the 
Schoppes,  unique  and  talented  fools,  such  as  no  other  writer 
ever  produced.     It  was  the  study  of  character  conceived  in 


32  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

its  central  point  and  developed  from  that,  which  appealed  to 
Hebbel. 

In  this  sense  we  find  him  working  on  Schnock,  a  name 
itself  reminding  us  of  Jean  Paul.  And  he  tells  us  that  he 
was  directly  inspired  by  that  author's  Attila  Schmelzle. 
Hebbel  had  begun  Schnock  in  Hamburg.  In  Munich  he 
rewrote  it  several  times,  hoping  to  find  a  publisher.  It  was 
his  desire  to  make  the  humor  not  accidental,  but  an  organic 
part  of  the  character.  He  wanted  to  get  inside  his  hero's 
soul  and  see  how  the  world  looked  from  that  point  of  view. 
Attila  Schmelzle  is  one  of  Jean  Paul's  most  delightful  works. 
In  the  first  place,  it  is  brief,  and  in  the  second  place,  the 
hero  is  admirably  characterized  by  Jean  Paul's  pleasant 
garrulousness,  which  in  most  of  his  works  is  tiresome. 
Schmelzle  is  an  army  chaplain,  who  is  valorous — in  his  own 
opinion — but  at  the  same  time  exceedingly  cautious  and 
prudent.  His  maxim  is,  that  "a  good  retreat  is  reckoned  a 
masterpiece  in  the  art  of  war ;  and  at  no  time  can  a  retreat 
be  executed  with  such  order,  force,  and  security,  as  just 
before  the  battle,  when  you  are  not  yet  beaten."3  In  his 
first  battle  he  acts  on  this  excellent  principle,  but  unfortu- 
nately the  enemy  is  beaten,  and  there  is  no  chaplain  to  give 
thanks  for  the  victory.  Schmelzle  repudiates  the  notion 
that  he  is  afraid.  When  he  sits  on  a  chair  in  the  middle 
of  the  room  during  a  thunder  storm,  after  removing  all  keys, 
money,  and  other  conductors,  from  his  pocket,  or  when  he 
ties  himself  to  his  wife  at  night,  to  keep  from  walking  in  his 
sleep — which  he  had  never  done — he  is  merely  taking  the 
necessary  precautions. 

Schnock  is  also  a  study  in  timidity.  The  hero  is  a  joiner, 
with  the  physique  of  a  Hercules  and  the  courage  of  a  mouse. 
He  would  have  been  much  happier,  had  he  been  a  foot 
shorter.  It  is  only  when  Schnock  is  drunk,  and  safe,  that 
he  has  the  courage  to  doubt  his  own  timidity.  His  wife 
married  him  because  he  was  not  man  enough  to  say  no,  and 
she  has  him  mercilessly  henpecked  as  soon  as  she  discovers 


■  Carlyle's  German  Romance,  Vol.  II. 


A  Desperate  Venture  33 

his  fear  of  her.  The  climax  of  the  story  is  Schnock's  visit 
to  the  menagerie,  where,  with  lions  on  one  side,  tigers  on  the 
other,  a  boa  constrictor  in  reaching  distance,  and  a  cage  of 
rattlesnakes  over  his  head,  he  suffers  agony  until  he  makes 
a  wild  dash  for  safety — only  to  regret  that  he  had  not  seen 
the  bears  for  his  money!  How  he  takes  the  pastor  to 
task  for  a  personal  sermon,  how  he  punishes  an  impudent 
cousin,  how  he  attempts  to  circumvent  his  wife's  stinginess 
by  stealing  his  own  sausages — these  and  other  episodes  are 
told  with  great  vividness  and  effect.  There  is  none  of  Jean 
Paul's  rambling  digression.  The  lines  are  perhaps  too 
sharp  and  clear,  the  language  too  direct  and  definite.  There 
is  also  a  certain  bitterness  in  Schnock's  reminiscences,  far 
removed  from  the  irrepressible  optimism  of  Schmelzle.  This 
was,  no  doubt,  induced  by  Hebbel's  own  harsh  experiences, 
and  in  a  sense  the  reflection  of  his  futile  efforts  to  solve  the 
problems  of  existence.  As  an  attempt  to  portray  life,  this 
little  novel,  or  rather  sketch,  was  a  sort  of  reductio  ad 
absurdum.  How  differently  from  Jean  Paul  does  Hebbel 
regard  those  narrow,  restricted  conditions  of  the  middle 
classes !  Not  with  the  eye  of  patience  and  love,  to  discover 
the  finer  human  emotions  hidden  beneath  the  thousand  follies 
and  pedantries  of  life,  but  with  the  satirist's  keen  vision,  to 
lay  bare  its  pettiness,  its  utter  insignificance.  This  little 
work,  long  its  author's  main  hope,  was  not  published  until 
1848,  and  then  in  greatly  reduced  form. 

Several  other  prose  works  were  undertaken  in  Munich. 
Two  of  these,  An  Evening  m  Strassburg,  an  unsuccessful 
description  of  an  episode  on  his  trip  from  Heidelberg  to 
Munich,  and  the  Obermedicinalratin,  a  story  told  with 
Strindbergian  malice,  were  published  in  Laube's  Mitter- 
nachtszeitung,  without  remuneration.  Another,  Nepomuk 
Schlagel  on  the  Hunt  for  Joy,  was  to  portray  a  professional 
pessimist.  This  remained  a  fragment — not  unfortunately 
— and  was  published  in  the  collection  of  his  stories  in  1855. 
Fragmentary  also  is  the  much  more  promising  work  entitled 
The  Two  Vagabonds.  This  is  a  genuinely  romantic  effort, 
practically  free  from  the  bitterness  noticeable  in  the  other 
Munich  stories,  brighter  and  more  humorous  in  tone.     We 


34  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

do  not,  it  is  true,  know  to  what  end  Hanns  and  Jiirgen,  the 
two  genial  vagabonds  and  swindlers,  would  have  come,  but  we 
cannot  withhold  our  sympathies  from  them  entirely.  We 
take  leave  of  them  at  an  interesting  moment,  when,  thanks 
to  the  all-persuasive  tongue  of  Jiirgen,  they  have  come  to  a 
decent  lodging  and  new  clothes  by  imposing  on  the  credu- 
lity of  Master  Jacob,  a  well-to-do  blacksmith.  For  Jiirgen 
is  just  on  the  point  of  discovering  how  to  make  gold,  and 
Master  Jacob  sets  him  up  in  a  "laboratory,"  where  he,  if  not 
they,  may  confidently  expect  the  settlement  of  all  material 
cares. 

The  Ruby  was  a  symbolical  fairy-tale,  which  Hebbel 
later  cast  in  dramatic  form,  and  which  may  be  best  consid- 
ered in  that  connection.  Most  of  these  Munich  stories  are 
good,  but  none  of  them  great.  While  he  quickly  attained  inde- 
pendence as  a  lyric  poet,  and  somewhat  later  founded  a  new 
type  of  drama,  in  the  narrative  he  was  continually  seeking, 
without  finding,  the  exact  form  he  needed.  His  talent,  he 
complained,  was  "adjusted  to  the  greatest  precision,"  and 
in  a  letter  of  February  19,  1837,  he  hinted  that  conception 
interested  him  more  than  execution.  This  really  meant  that 
he  had  not  yet  discovered  the  proper  medium  of  expression, 
a  fact  that  he  freely  confessed  a  few  years  later  (1840), 
when  the  completion  of  his  first  great  drama,  Judith,  in  a 
measure  consoled  him  for  his  earlier  failures.  He  lacked 
entirely  the  pleasant  talent  with  which,  in  English  Litera- 
ture, the  name  of  Jane  Austen  is  synonymous.  "I  never 
get  into  the  swing,"  he  says,  "everything  seems  to  me  so  un- 
important, so  superfluous.  I  demand  that  some  significance 
shall  attach  to  every  trait,  and  with  such  demands  the  pages 
are  not  filled.  Alas,  if  I  were  only  released  from  the  bonds 
of  literature !  It  is  a  useless  existence,  the  only  choice  being 
between  deepest  humiliation  and  starvation." 

During  these  years  in  Munich,  his  theory  of  lyric  poetry 
gained  in  definiteness.  He  abstracted  it  from  Schiller, 
negatively,  and  positively  from  Uhland,  Goethe,  and,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  from  himself.  First  of  all  we  notice  his 
high  conception  of  poetry,  which,  in  his  sight,  is  removed 
from  the  transgressions  of  the  verse-maker,  as  far  as  the 


A  Desperate  Venture  35 

east  is  from  the  west.  "All  poetry  is  revelation  .  .  .  The 
hour  of  inspiration  is  not  the  meager,  hothouse  product  of 
exterior  impressions ;  it  brings  the  genius  the  key  to  the 
Universe  and  he  can  enter  where  he  will."  Every  poem  must 
have  an  idea,  but  not  a  general  idea.  "Idea"  for  him  means 
a  definite  condition  of  what  he  termed  GemiLt,  variously 
rendered  by  mind,  soul,  heart,  feelings.  In  his  own  words 
(February  24,  1839):  "The  function  of  lyric  poetry  is  to 
unlock  the  depths  of  the  human  soul,  liberate  its  most  ob- 
scure feelings  by  means  of  heavenly  melodies,  and  intoxicate 
and  enliven  it  through  itself,"  or,  as  elsewhere  expressed, 
"to  put  the  heart  in  possession  of  its  noblest,  most  beautiful 
and  elevating  emotions." 

He  continued  steadily  producing  lyric  poems  during> 
these  years,  some  of  them  ballads,  in  which  he  shows  a  fond- 
ness for  striking  turns  and  unexpected  situations,  chiefly 
tragic;  many  of  them  efforts  to  banish  his  pessimism  by 
expressing  it;  others,  again,  the  formulation  of  his  mystic 
sense  of  the  omnipresent  divinity.  Those  dealing  with  the 
recollections  of  childhood  are  unusually  good,  and  one  of 
his  very  best  is  the  reminiscence  of  an  early  love.  In  this 
poem,  To  Hedwig,  Hebbel  exhibits  strong  emotion  chastened 
by  the  beauty  and  tenderness  of  an  idealized  memory.  Here 
he  commemorates  the  "joy  that  did  not  intoxicate,  and  the 
pain  that  left  no  sting."  The  form  is  elastic  and  sincere, 
the  emotions,  thoroughly  unique,  are  analyzed  with  subtlety 
and  precision  but  not  in  detail. 

By  May,  1837,  he  speaks  of  having  seventy  poems  he 
would  like  to  publish  in  a  collection,  and  in  November  of 
that  year  he  got  together  one  hundred  and  thirteen,  which  he 
sent  to  Uhland  with  the  request  for  aid  in  finding  a  publisher. 
About  twelve  weeks  later  Uhland  replied.  Of  the  poems 
he  spoke  favorably,  indicating  those  he  especially  liked,  and 
said  that  he  had  turned  the  manuscript  over  to  Cotta,  his 
own  publisher,  for  consideration.  Uhland  signed  this 
letter  with  the  words  "friendly  esteem,"  and  Hebbel's  satis- 
faction over  the  esteem  of  his  honored  master  was  unbounded. 
He  thought  this  a  good  deal,  coming  from  a  poet  whose 
name  would  surely  be  immortal !     It  is  true,  Cotta,  having 


36  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

suffered  loss  by  fire,  and  for  other  reasons,  could  not  publish 
his  poems,  but  Uhland's  recommendation  secured,  at  least, 
an  honorable  refusal.  Hebbel,  infused  with  new  hope,  im- 
mediately sent  the  collection  to  Campe,  in  Hamburg,  stipu- 
lating ten  louis  d'or  as  compensation.  By  Campe  the 
poems  were  referred  to  Carl  Gutzkow  for  an  opinion,  which, 
as  far  as  it  concerned  their  merit,  was  highly  favorable. 
Yet  Campe  was  advised  not  to  publish  them  as  a  collection, 
as  their  success  in  that  form  should  be  doubtful.  Rather 
should  he  wait  until  they  had  been  tried  out  in  the  Telegraphy 
which  Gutzkow  was  editing,  and  in  other  literary  journals. 
It  now  lay  in  Hebbel's  power  to  form  an  alliance  with  Gutz- 
kow, who,  in  his  letter  to  Campe,  came  more  than  half  way. 
But,  in  spite  of  his  isolation,  Hebbel  was  not  inclined  to 
meet  this  advance. 

During  these  years  of  his  preparation,  which  we  have 
been  reviewing,  a  literary  revolution  was  under  way  in  Ger- 
many. An  outlived  and  reactionary  romanticism  was  being 
replaced  by  a  realistic  movement,  the  leaders  of  which  were 
called  the  Young  Germans.  Chief  among  them  were  Heinrich 
Laube  and  Carl  Gutzkow.  The  general  program  of  this 
movement,  a  series  of  lectures  at  the  University  of  Kiel  by 
Ludolf  Wienbarg,  had  been  published  by  him  under  the 
title  of  Esthetic  Campaigns.  The  book  was  dedicated  to 
Young  Germany,  meaning  the  younger  generation.  It  was 
Adolf  Menzel,  who  in  his  denunciation  of  Gutzkow's  so-called 
novel,  Wally,  the  Doubter  (1835),  first  included  certain 
young  authors  under  that  heading  as  a  "school."  And 
when,  upon  Menzel's  denunciation,  the  Frankfurt  Parlia- 
ment issued  its  edict  forbidding  the  writings,  present  and 
future,  of  Young  Germany,  it  expressly  named  Heine,  Laube, 
Gutzkow,  Wienbarg,  and  Mundt.  Thus  an  outward  soli- 
darity was  given  to  the  movement.  Heine  had  little  to  do 
with  it.  The  general  radicalism  of  his  writings,  his  keen 
invectives  against  all  forms  of  medievalism,  made  it  safer  for 
him  to  remain  in  Paris,  where  he  had  gone  after  the  revolu- 
tion of  1830.  The  others  endured  various  persecutions, 
even  to  the  extent  of  prison  sentences  for  Laube  and  Gutz- 
kow,   before    the    ban    of    official    disapproval    was    lifted. 


A  Desperate  Venture  67 

Gutzkow  remained  a  resolute  liberal  to  the  last,  while  Laube 
grew  rapidly  conservative. 

These  men  formed  the  literary  powers  when  Hebbel  be- 
gan to  break  into  print.  Therefore  a  brief  summary  of 
their  purposes  is  now  in  place.  They  stood  for  a  definite 
reform  of  literature.  They  meant  to  bring  it  back  to  the 
world  of  reality  again,  from  which  the  efforts  of  the  Roman- 
tic School  had  effectually  banished  it.  Infused  with  revolu- 
tionary ideas  from  France,  they  set  out  to  place  literature  in 
the  service  of  a  new  national  and  political  ideal,  just  as 
Romanticism  had  placed  it  in  the  service  of  reaction  in 
church  and  state.  They  were  opposed  to  all  vague  idealism, 
the  flight  from  life,  advocating  in  its  stead  a  direct  attack  on 
contemporary  problems.  Their  attitude  to  certain  conven- 
tions was  summed  up  in  the  unfortunate  phrase  "emancipa- 
tion of  the  flesh."  In  his  Wally,  Gutzkow,  with  much  moraliz- 
ing and  little  art,  combatted  the  principle  of  revelation,  and 
pointed  man  back  to  his  own  powers.  The  Young  Germans 
stood  also  for  greater  liberties  for  the  Jews  and  the  emanci- 
pation of  woman.  In  their  opinion,  not  only  the  Romantic 
school,  even  Goethe  was  out  of  date,  especially  in  the  sense 
that  he  had  held  his  art  aloof  from  political  or  social 
programs.  They  had  no  gods,  they  were  thoroughly  ration- 
alistic. In  their  hands  literature  was  to  be  chiefly  a  pro- 
gram. By  its  aid  they  intended  to  effect  political,  religious, 
and  social  reforms.  They  had  great  ambitions,  and  many 
laudable  ones,  but  the  outcome  showed  that  they  were  un- 
equal to  the  task  they  imposed  upon  themselves.  Wienbarg 
and  Mundt  made  little  pretension  to  poetic  power,  while 
neither  Gutzkow  nor  Laube,  whatever  their  merits  in  other 
directions  may  have  been,  possessed  it.  They  were,  there- 
fore, unable  to  give  permanent  artistic  expression  to  their 
time,  and  the  more  desperately  they  attempted,  in  novels, 
dramas,  and  especially  sketches  of  all  kinds,  to  catch  every 
changing  mood,  the  more  elusive  did  their  goal  become. 
They  were  talented  doctrinaires.  Creative  art  was  not  their 
sphere. 

Both  against  these  views  and  their  representatives,  Heb- 
bel had  many  things  to  object,  and  from  the  very  first  an  im- 


38  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

passable  barrier  was  raised  between  them  and  him.  To  be- 
gin with,  he  did  not  believe  in  their  main  proposition,  that 
any  reforms  would  be  brought  about  by  literature,  and  while 
he  did  believe  that  there  must  be  a  very  intimate  connection 
between  the  poetic  work  and  its  times,  his  conception  of  that 
connection  was  infinitely  deeper  and  more  essential  than 
anything  the  Young  Germans  could  say  on  the  subject.  We 
shall  have  occasion  to  define  it  in  discussing  his  theory  of  the 
drama.  They  were  essentially  journalistic  talents,  while 
Hebbel  came  to  regard  journalism  as  the  chief  national  sin. 
They  knew  how  to  further  their  own  reputation,  he  was  a 
genius,  condemned  to  life-long  isolation.  They  were  radi- 
cals, he  was  an  evolutionist,  a  conservative  among  radicals, 
and  a  radical  among  conservatives.  Their  ideas  on  the 
emancipation  of  women  were  among  his  chief  aversions, 
though  he  has  of  right  been  named  the  modern  Frauenlob. 
But  they  aimed  at  conventions,  while  his  thoughts  went  much 
deeper.  And  also,  from  his  standpoint,  the  self-assurance 
and  pretension  with  which  they  came  before  the  public  were 
entirely  out  of  proportion  to  the  poetic  value  of  their 
achievements.  He  stood  above  them  and  had  a  right  to 
judge.  And  that  he  made  free  use  of  his  right  is  plain 
enough  from  his  Diary.  What  difference  did  it  make  to 
him  that  Gutzkow  praised  his  poems?  He  praised  the 
wrong!  things  in  them.  And  we  know  that,  at  this  very  time, 
Hebbel  was  planning  a  book  of  contemporary  criticism,  in 
which  he  meant  to  have  a  thorough  reckoning  with  the 
Young  Germans,  especially  "the  arrogant  Laube,"  as  he 
expressed  it. 

While  Hebbel  was  struggling  along  under  the  greatest 
adversities  in  Hamburg,  entirely  isolated  and  unknown,  he 
contemptuously  referred  to  these  young  men,  whose  reputa- 
tions were  already  firmly  established,  as  "sparrows."  Gutz- 
kow was  already  coming  into  his  place  as  the  most  influential 
critic  in  Germany  for  a  long  time  to  come,  while  Laube  was 
destined  to  be  director  of  the  best  German  stage,  at  a  time 
and  place  in  which  Hebbel  needed  his  good  will  most.  Nor 
was  our  young  poet,  in  the  strength  of  an  inflexible  literary 
sincerity,  inclined  to  judge  his  other  contemporaries  with 


A  Desperate  Venture  39 

leniency.  The  living  poets  whom  he  most  venerated,  Tieck 
and  Uhland,  belonged  to  the  past.  Halm,  with  his  Griseldis 
and  his  "fine  language"  in  imitation  of  Schiller,  he  regarded 
as  beneath  his  notice.  "Wherever  one  looks  in  German 
literature,"  he  exclaims  (1838),  "it  is  all  rubbish."  At 
this  time  he  seems  to  have  had  no  knowledge  of  the  real  poets 
among  his  contemporaries,  such  as  Morike  and  Grillparzer. 
Naturally  enough,  therefore,  Hebbel  would  have  to  fight 
desperately  for  his  existence,  for  the  literary  world  cannot 
be  expected  to  recognize  merit  in  a  writer  who  despises  it. 
But  for  the  present,  the  greater  battle  was  within  him- 
self. Doubt  of  his  mission  tormented  him.  Realizing  that 
art  was  his  only  avenue  of  approach  to  the  best  and  highest 
in  life,  he  was  confronted  with  the  terrible  thought,  that  his 
own  talent  might  fall  short  of  great  art.  No  poets,  he 
exclaims,  should  be  born,  who  are  not  Goethes.  Other  prob- 
lems also  left  him  no  peace.  These  letters  from  Munich 
show  us  more  than  a  poet  struggling  for  mastery  and  recog- 
nition, they  show  us  a  man  battling  against  pessimism  and 
despair  for  a  workable  philosophy  of  life.  His  very  isola- 
tion  lends  a  grandeur  to  his  efforts.  Rousseau,  who  had 
followed  him  to  Munich,  was  his  only  intimate  friend.  His 
only  other  audience,  long  the  recipient  of  his  profoundest 
thoughts,  was  a  Hamburg  seamstress.  With  amazing 
frankness  he  invites  Elise  Lensing  to  look  with  him  into  the 
seething  depths  of  his  spirit,  he  overwhelms  her  with  pas- 
sionate outbursts  on  the  theme  that  all  is  vanity.  This  deep 
insight  into  the  "nothingness  of  all  existence  and  activity," 
just  as  it  had  destroyed  in  advance  the  hopeful  audacity  of 
his  youth,  now  threatened  to  thwart  the  settled  purpose  of 
his  manhood.  It  seemed  to  him  that,  in  making  man, 
Nature  had  gone  beyond  her  powers.  This  may  relieve  the 
individual  of  guilt  for  his  degeneracy,  but  since  the  indi- 
vidual is  supported  only  by  a  sense  of  the  value  of  human 
life,  this  thought  empties  his  existence  of  its  main  content. 
Hebbel  pursues  these  reflections  until  he  is  touched  with  a 
sense  of  responsibility  for  all  the  evil  men  do.  Modern  life 
seems  to  him  to  have  lost  every  great  faith.  He  even  ques- 
tions the  advantage  of  having  overcome  medieval  supersti- 


40  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  H  ebb  el 

tions — it  is  a  great  loss,  for  example,  that  we  no  longer 
believe  in  the  devil.  "Whether  men  will  or  not,  they  will 
soon  have  to  set  up  another  golden  calf."  This  is  a  bitter 
formulation  of  the  same  issue  he  expressed  more  seriously 
in  his  searchings  for  a  new  God-idea.  It  is  evident  that  he 
had  faced  every  illusion.  When  Elise  replies  that  his 
pessimism  is  a  disease,  he  defends  it  as  the  source  of  all 
higher  life.  For  most  people,  he  says,  religion  is  a  spiritual 
sleep,  or  even  a  failure  to  awake.  As  for  himself,  he  is  con- 
vinced that  the  only  worthy  relation  of  man  to  God,  and  the 
only  one  God  desires,  is  as  complete  independence  of  him  as 
possible.  This  is  the  same  idea  as  that  expressed  in  the 
poem  of  advice,  To  Young  Men  (Hamburg,  1839).  He 
formulates  his  conception  of  religion,  at  this  time,  accord- 
ingly: "There  is  no  way  to  God  save  by  man's  activity. 
Every  man  is  related  to  the  Infinite  by  the  best  strength,  the 
chief  talent  that  has  been  given  him,  and  only  as  far  as  he 
trains  this  talent  and  develops  this  strength,  does  he  ap- 
proach his  Creator  and  enter  into  relation  with  him.  All 
other  religion  is  empty  and  vain."  Logically,  therefore,  he 
rejects  the  Christian  dogmas  of  sin,  humility,  and  grace. 
In  these  Munich  years  a  particular  bitterness  against 
Christianity  is  shown  in  his  letters,  especially  against  its 
ethical  teachings.  This  abruptness  he  modified  in  maturer 
years,  though  he  never  approached  dogmatic  Christianity. 
HebbePs  studies  in  the  University  of  Munich  were  ex- 
tensive but  irregular.  He  read  largely  history  and  phi- 
losophy. He  was  not  among  the  poets  who  suppose  that 
inspiration  can  dispense  with  all  information.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  continually  lamented  his  desultory  education,  and 
used  every  means  within  his  reach  to  supplement  it.  The 
most  famous  men  he  heard  were  Gorres  and  Schelling.  The 
former  was  too  cabalistic  for  HebbePs  taste,  while  the  theo- 
sophical  Schelling  of  Munich  impressed  him  less,  perhaps, 
than  the  earlier  writings  of  the  same  philosopher.  It  was  in 
Munich  that,  through  Schelling,  and  in  the  works  of  Solger 
and  Hegel,  he  first  became  better  acquainted  with  the  great 
philosophy  of  his  time.  The  relation  between  this  and  his 
own  thoughts  on  the  theory  of  the  drama  will  be  explained  in 


A  Desperate  Venture  41 

the  discussion  of  that  subject.  Besides  other  works  of 
Hegel,  he  probably  read  the  History  of  Philosophy,  and  he 
evidently  read  history  from  an  evolutionary  point  of  view. 

Especially  interesting  to  him  were  the  lectures  on 
criminology  by  Mittermaier.  The  problem  of  the  criminal 
had  a  certain  fascination  for  him  throughout  his  entire  life. 
His  interest  might  be  termed  a  purely  professional  one,  in 
his  earnest  effort  to  fathom  the  depths  of  human  nature. 
Especially  as  a  dramatist  was  he  concerned  with  the  ideas 
of  sin  and  atonement,  or  of  guilt  and  reconciliation.  Mit- 
termaier advocated,  it  is  true,  a  more  lenient  interpretation 
of  personal  guilt,  but  without  ignoring  for  practical  pur- 
poses the  ideas  of  free  will  and  strict  accountability.  We 
have  already  seen  to  what  despair  Hebbel's  thought  on  this 
question  reduced  him  at  times.  For  him  it  contained  the 
central  problem  of  life;  yes,  it  reduced  life  itself  to  one 
enormous,  insistent  problem,  which  would  not  leave  him  in 
peace.  His  total  dramatic  production  may  be  regarded  as 
the  expression  of  his  struggle  with  it. 

In  view  of  subsequent  developments  in  the  relation  be- 
tween Hebbel  and  Elise  Lensing,  one  of  the  most  important 
in  his  life,  it  is  well  to  mention  such  personal  aspects  of  that 
as  are  reflected  in  the  letters  from  Munich.  Though  Elise's 
letters,  presumably,  are  lost,  it  can  be  inferred  from  Heb- 
bel's replies  that  she  occasionally  touched  upon  the  question 
of  their  marriage.  Hebbel's  answer  is  frank  and  uniform 
when  he  approaches  this  subject.  Marriage,  at  that  time, 
was  in  his  view  a  necessary  civil  institution,  but  it  was  not 
for  him  and  his  kind.  He  did  not  think  he  was  made  for 
marriage.  He  reminds  Elise,  that  she  already  shares  his 
innermost  life  as  fully  as  is  possible  between  two  persons. 
To  no  one  does  he  write  as  to  her,  and  a  more  intimate 
spiritual  association  would  be  inconceivable.  It  should  be 
to  both  a  matter  of  satisfaction  that  the  "intoxication  of 
the  senses"  had  passed  into  a  more  settled  and  mature  rela- 
tion. And  when  he  tells  her  that  a  heart  should  be  ca- 
pacious enough  for  many  friends,  or  even  many  loves,  it  is 
a  definite  warning  not  to  reckon  on  possessing  him  alone — 
a  warning  not  without  real  foundation  in  his  Munich  ex- 


42  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

periences,  as  we  know.  His  relations  with  Josepha  Schwarz, 
a  cabinet-maker's  daughter,  were  of  the  most  intimate  char- 
acter. None  the  less,  his  letters  are  full  of  such  passages  as 
these,  the  sincerity  of  which  it  is  useless  to  doubt:  "The 
holiest  and  truest  in  me,  whatever  there  is  of  honor  and  love, 
is  turned  to  you,  is  yours  forever.  ...  I  think  of  you 
always  when  I  am  most  worthy  of  myself,  and  .  .  .  the 
most  desirable  thing  I  expect  from  the  future,  is  to  live  with 
you  again."    (Jan.  1,  1837.) 

Before  leaving  Munich  Hebbel  received  the  news  of  his 
mother's  death.  (September,  1838.)  It  had  been  his 
cherished  desire  to  help  her,  but  she  had  passed  away  during 
his  own  darkest  days.  "Now,  I  can  believe  in  my  own 
death,"  he  says.  What  he  had  not  done,  Elise  Lensing,  with 
characteristic  thoughtfulness,  had  done  in  his  stead.  With- 
out his  knowledge,  but  in  his  name,  she  had  sent  his  mother 
supplies  and  money.  Another  severe  shock  to  him  came  in 
the  death  of  his  friend,  Rousseau,  who  died  at  his  home  in 
Anspach,  just  after  having  attained  his  doctorate.  In  his 
first  grief  Hebbel  reproached  himself  with  having  been  a 
tyrannical  friend,  as  he  certainly  was  both  then  and  later. 
But  immediately  he  adds  a  characteristic  justification:  "It 
is  not  a  sin,  it  is  a  condition  of  life,  that  man  use  his 
powers.  Strength  against  strength !  In  God  is  the  recon- 
ciliation." 

In  March,  1839,  Hebbel  set  out  on  foot  for  Hamburg, 
accompanied  only  by  his  little  dog,  for  whose  welfare  during 
the  rough  journey  he  showed  more  concern  than  for  his  own. 
He  had  a  lingering  regard  for  the  place  he  was  leaving,  and 
little  hope  of  sympathy  in  that  for  which  he  was  bound. 
With  the  exception  of  Elise  Lensing  no  one  attracted  him 
there.  He  was  conscious  of  a  certain  false  relation  between 
himself  and  those  who  had  acted  in  his  behalf.  They  had 
given,  to  be  used  in  their  sense,  what  he  could  use  only  in  his. 
As  he  turned  northward  again  he  was  firmly  resolved  to 
receive  no  aid  and  no  suggestions  unless  they  were  offered 
in  full  accord  with  his  plan  of  life.  On  his  way  he  passed 
through  Gottingen,  stopping  there  to  see  Ihering,  a  student 
whom  he  had  known  superficially  in  Heidelberg.     Ihering's 


A  Desperate  Venture  43 

account  of  this  visit  is  instructive.4  Hebbel  was  sorely  re- 
duced. He  was  as  dusty  as  a  beggar,  his  shoes  were  en- 
tirely worn  out,  his  clothes  threadbare.  Ihering  confesses 
that  he  was  ashamed  to  be  seen  in  the  company  of  his  visitor, 
who  was  regarded  in  town  as  a  sort  of  curiosity.  He  had 
Hebbel's  shoes  soled  and  provided  him  with  money  for  the 
rest  of  his  trip.  According  to  his  account  Hebbel  received 
these  benefits  as  if  they  were  a  favor  conferred  on  the  bene- 
factor, treating  his  host  throughout  with  the  mild  conde- 
scension of  a  superior  being.  "He  spoke  to  me  like  a  pro- 
fessor from  his  chair,"  says  Ihering.  He  suffered  no  ques- 
tions and  no  interruptions,  and  when  thanked  for  the  in- 
struction, which  was  no  doubt  excellent,  Hebbel  replied,  that 
he  had  not  spoken  as  much  for  his  host's  sake  as  in  order  to 
gain  a  clear  expression  of  his  thoughts.  With  good  humor 
Ihering  offers  explanations  for  this  inconsiderate  conduct  on 
Hebbel's  part,  but  the  facts  as  they  stand  are  so  character- 
istic of  the  poet's  personality,  in  one  of  its  phases,  that  they 
may  pass  here  without  comment. 

From  Gottingen  he  made  his  way  in  cold,  rough  weather, 
with  great  suffering  and  danger  to  his  health,  to  Harburg, 
where  Elise  Lensing  met  him.  They  went  to  Hamburg  on 
the  following  day. 

*  Kuh,  I,  p.  259  f. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  FAME  :  Judith 

ON  the  evening  of  April  11th,  Hebbel  wrote  the  following 
words  in  his  Diary:  "Now  I  am  sitting  again  in  the 
same  room  in  which  I  sat  three  years  ago  and  learned 
vocabularies  by  heart.  .  .  .  My  prospects  are  very  different 
from  what  they  were  then.  .  .  .  The  secretary,  scarcely  out 
of  his  chrysalis,  who  considered  it  a  great  honor  to  be  made 
a  member  of  a  college  boys'  club,  is  now  sought  out  and 
respected  by  the  foremost  literary  lights  of  Germany.  A 
world  of  activity  stretches  out  before  me.  Three  years 
make  a  vast  difference.  What  was  still  merely  imaginary 
in  Munich  is  now  assured:  I  am  no  longer  embarrassed,  no 
matter  whose  presence  I  may  be  in.  .  .  .  Doctor  Wihl  has 
urged  me  to  write  a  history  and  criticism  of  German  lyric 
poetry.  This  coincides  with  a  plan  already  formed  in 
Munich,  and  I  will  do  it.  I  can  say  more  on  this  subject 
than  any  one  else.  Gutzkow  wants  an  account  of  Munich 
for  his  Telegraph,  and  for  his  Yearbook  my  reviews  of 
Heinrich  Laube.  Campe  wants  an  historical  novel  with  its 
scene  in  Ditmarsh.  Work  enough.  I  can  complain  no 
longer.     The  gate  is  open  for  me." 

But  Hebbel  was  a  man  of  moods,  and  this  bright  sky  was 
immediately  overcast.  The  very  next  morning  he  says:  "I 
have  already  written  a  few  pages  on  Munich.  Such  gossip 
disgusts  me."  And  the  month  had  not  passed  before  he 
began  to  have  serious  doubts  as  to  his  new  literary  connec- 
tions. "In  all  these  people  there  is  no  truth,  hence  they 
believe  in  none  themselves.  I  cannot  stand  them."  This 
had  special  reference  to  Gutzkow.  He  retracts  this  in  his 
Diary  a  few  months  later,  only  at  once  to  reaffirm  it.  We 
can  easily  see  that  their  relation  was  not  cordial,  and  every 
effort  to  make  it  so,  whether  now  or  in  after  years,  was 
doomed  to  failure.  There  could  be  no  genuine  alliance  be- 
tween the  versatile  talent  and  the  profound  and  passionate 

44 


The  Beginning  of  Fame:  Judith  45 

genius,  except  on  the  basis  of  subordination,  which  Gutzkow 
would  have  been  the  last  to  concede. 

None  the  less,  Hebbel  contributed  a  number  of  articles  to 
the  Telegraph  as  he  had  planned.  These  appeared  between 
1839  and  1841.  Some  were  descriptions  of  his  experiences 
in  Munich,  characterizing  the  city,  its  people,  its  architec- 
ture, its  drama,  and  its  art.  They  are  freer  in  tone  than 
those  he  had  sent  to  Stuttgart  earlier,  and,  in  contrast  to 
them,  make  rather  enjoyable  reading.  Everywhere  is 
noticeable  the  tendency  that  he  never  denied,  whether  in 
theory  or  practice,  to  find  leading  principles  for  his  remarks. 
He  hated  mere  disconnected  talk.  He  contributed  more 
than  twenty-five  reviews,  dealing,  for  the  most  part,  with 
now  forgotten  books.  In  his  criticism  he  does  not  go  into 
detail,  seldom  gives  a  concrete  analysis  of  the  work  in  ques- 
tion, but  looks  at  once  for  the  chief  structural  principle  of 
the  work.  His  criticism  of  entire  books,  or  for  that  matter 
of  all  the  works  of  an  author,  as  for  example  those  of 
Byron  some  years  later,  is  very  brief,  especially  considering 
its  range  and  depth. 

As  Werner  has  pointed  out,  these  reviews  for  the  Tele- 
graph are  not  free  from  the  journalistic  mannerisms  of  the 
day,  the  superior  tone  and  the  self-assured  air.  They  never 
deny,  however,  the  real  earnestness  of  their  author's  pur- 
pose, which  his  later  essays  reveal  in  greater  naturalness 
and  simplicity.  The  review  of  a  work  on  Socrates  is  par- 
ticularly interesting,  in  so  far  as  the  question  of  Socrates' 
guilt  or  innocence  is  discussed.  Socrates,  it  is  said,  stood  over 
against  his  time  with  the  bright  sword  of  a  new  philosophy, 
and  his  time,  stronger  than  he,  disarmed  him  and  slew  him 
with  his  own  weapon.  This  was  a  "deed  of  blind  passion," 
it  is  true,  but  it  was  "adopted  by  fate."  From  a  higher  point 
of  view  it  was  justified.  Socrates,  not  the  "eternal  Idea 
of  Justice,"  perished.  Hebbel  does  not  carry  out  this  ex- 
planation further,  which  indicates  his  belief  in  something 
like  the  pragmatic  sanction  of  history.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  is  noticeable  in  the  same  essay  a  radical  position  with 
reference  to  the  writing  of  history.  It  is  not  the  business  of 
the  historian,  he  thinks,  to  "settle"  questions.     We  do  not 


46  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

need  a  fixed  past.  "We  do  not  want  to  inherit  anything — 
inheritances  make  one  lazy.  We  want  to  use  our  powers." 
Thus  the  little  essay  combines  in  a  peculiar  way  HebbePs 
twofold  way  of  regarding  life — conservative,  in  his  es- 
timate of  Socrates,  progressive  in  his  own  attitude  to  tra- 
dition. 

An  essay  on  Wienbarg's  Dramatists  of  the  Present  was 
complimentary,  and  its  strictures,  when  they  seemed  neces- 
sary, were  in  a  most  considerate  tone.  Hebbel  was  doing 
what  he  could  to  keep  on  friendly  terms  with  the  influential 
leaders.  The  most  important  thing  in  the  review,  perhaps, 
was  the  distinction  set  up  between  ancient  and  modern 
drama.  "Human  nature  and  human  destiny,"  he  writes, 
"these  are  the  two  mysteries  that  the  drama  endeavors  to 
solve.  The  difference  between  the  drama  of  the  ancients  and 
the  drama  of  modern  times  lies  in  this:  with  the  torch  of 
poetry  the  ancients  attempted  to  explore  the  labyrinth  of 
fate ;  we  moderns  attempt  to  refer  human  nature,  in  whatever 
form  or  distortion  it  may  appear  to  us,  to  certain  eternal 
I  and  unchangeable  principles." 

Hebbel  soon  found  that  the  gate  was  not  as  wide  open  to 
him  as  he  imagined.  When  he  sent  his  humorous  story, 
SchnocJc,  to  the  publisher,  Brockhaus,  it  was  returned  "with 
many  excuses,"  and  this  in  spite  of  its  warm  recommenda- 
tion by  Tieck.  "A  bad  time  for  literature,"  remarks  Heb- 
bel, "when  a  book  Tieck  has  praised  cannot  find  a  publisher." 
It  is  amusing  to  see  how  much  he  makes  of  the  cordial  letter 
Tieck  wrote  him  on  this  occasion.  It  comes  in  for  a  share 
in  all  his  correspondence,  when  he  wishes  to  impress  people 
with  his  growing  importance,  as  for  example  in  letters  to 
Wesselburen.  In  a  letter  to  Charlotte  Rousseau,  the  sister 
of  his  deceased  friend,  he  remarks  with  naive  joy:  "The 
letter  (from  Tieck)  is  four  pages  long."  The  words 
themselves  reveal  an  intensity  of  ambition  and  a  pride  in 
achievement  thoroughly  characteristic  of  their  writer. 
They  also  show  in  what  small  degree  his  thirst  had  been 
quenched. 

But  Tieck's  praise  was  not  money.  That  came  even 
more  slowly,  and  we  find  Hebbel  forced  to  borrow  of  the 


The  Beginning  of  Fame:  Judith  47 

Rousseau  family  soon  after  the  close  of  the  year.  In  June 
a  dangerous  illness  came  near  ending  his  life.  In  August 
Cotta  refused  his  poems.  He  was  unable  to  write,  and  his 
discouragement  in  this  and  the  following  month  was  intense. 
Then,  on  October  3,  he  made  the  entry  in  his  Diary:  "Yester- 
day I  began  my  tragedy,  Judith,  and  wrote  a  few  scenes, 
which  I  like."  His  joy  over  having  at  last  discovered  a 
great  theme  was  unbounded.  "To-day  I  continued  writing 
and  was  successful.  Life,  situation,  and  characters  leap 
forth  fresh  and  vigorous  in  racy  prose,  without  the  long, 
puffy  adjectives,  which  must  so  often  help  fill  out  blank 
verse.  My  God !  If  the  thing  would  only  go !  If  this 
pause  hitherto,  this  choking  of  the  poetic  stream  should 
mean  nothing  but  a  new  course !  I  should  be  happy !  My 
life  depends  on  my  poetry.  If  that  is  an  error,  then  I  my- 
self am  one!" 

The  work  proceeded  well,  suffering  its  chief  interruptions 
from  outward  circumstances,  both  of  a  financial  and  a  per- 
sonal kind.  He  was  still  borrowing  of  Elise,  to  whom,  as  he 
said,  he  owed  what  he  was.  Campe,  the  Hamburg  publisher, 
for  whom  he  had  agreed  to  write  a  novel  on  Ditmarsh,  was 
unwilling  to  advance  him  money  on  that  venture,  while  Heb- 
bel  could  not  work  without  it.  He  therefore  practically 
gave  up  the  plan.  Even  worse  for  his  poetic  mood  were  the 
petty  altercations  forced  upon  him  by  his  former  benefac- 
tress, Amalia  Schoppe — on  account  of  such  trifles  as  his 
failure  to  see  her  or  her  mother  in  passing  on  the  street,  or 
his  association  with  persons  who  had  incurred  her  dis- 
pleasure. All  these  things  reacted  with  incredible  severity 
on  the  poet's  sensitive  nature. 

In  spite  of  his  troubles,  however,  he  completed  his  Judith 
by  January,  1840,  or  in  less  than  four  months.  It  is  char- 
acteristic of  Hebbel  that  he  produced  rapidly,  but  at  long 
intervals.  Most  of  his  work  on  a  given  material  was  done 
unconsciously,  so  that  the  apparent  process  of  writing 
seemed  brief.  He  did  not  work  by  a  detailed  plan,  and  in 
the  case  of  Judith  he  presumably  began  actual  composition 
with  the  fifth  act.  The  origins  of  the  drama  are  clearly  to 
be  found  in  Munich.     As  far  as  so  obscure  a  matter  can  be 


48  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

determined,  his  imagination  seems  to  have  begun  with  the 
character  as  a  dynamic  point.  Theodor  Poppe  has  indi- 
cated in  a  subtle  way  how  the  two  principal  characters  in 
his  first  tragedy,  the  Hebbel-Judith  and  the  Hebbel-Holo- 
f ernes,  might  have  arisen  in  his  mind:  the  one,  a  conception 
of  the  sacrificial  virgin,  which  had  first  occupied  him  in  the 
guise  of  Joan  of  Arc;  the  other,  a  conception  of  the  over- 
whelming masculine  hero,  which  had  occupied  him  in  plans 
for  an  Alexander,  and  a  Napoleon.  And  both  were  nourished 
by  his  relation  to  Elise  Lensing,  including  the  pangs  of  his 
conscience,  which  he  vainly  tried  to  reason  away. 

The  close  connection  between  Judith  and  Hebbel's  work 
on  a  Joan  of  Arc,  with  which  he  hoped  to  supplant  Schiller's 
Jungfrau  von  Orleans,  was  pointed  out  by  his  first  biog- 
rapher, Emil  Kuh.  In  Hebbel's  opinion  the  chief  tragic 
conception  in  the  latter  material  was,  that  Divine  Power  uses 
a  human  being  as  an  instrument  to  accomplish  a  certain 
necessary  end,  but  cannot  save  that  being  from  assuming 
personal  responsibility  for  the  result.  Joan  of  Arc  fulfilled 
a  definite  historical  mission  in  saving  her  country — the 
country  of  the  Revolution,  as  Hebbel  constructs — but  with 
a  tragic  outcome  for  herself.  Hebbel  was  dissatisfied  with 
Schiller's  drama,  both  because  this  idea  was  not  clearly  ex- 
pressed in  it,  and  because  the  heroine  was  too  rhetorical.  So 
much  we  can  gather  from  his  Diary  and  Letters.  Just  when 
he  transferred  his  interest  to  Judith  is  unknown.  He  men- 
tions a  painting  of  Judith  that  appealed  to  his  imagination 
while  in  Munich,  and  it  has  been  suggested  that  a  passage  in 
Heine's  description  of  the  Paris  exhibition  of  paintings  in 
1831  gave  him  the  all-important  motive.  Heine  said  of 
Vernet's  Judith,  that  she  had  her  own  injured  body  to 
avenge,  as  well  as  to  slay  the  enemy  of  her  country. 

Hebbel  found  his  subject,  with  which  he  had  long  been 
familiar,  in  the  Apocryphal  book  of  Judith.  It  is  there  re- 
lated how  Nebuchadnezzar  sent  out  his  conquering  army 
under  Holofernes,  who  became  a  terror  to  all  that  dared 
resist  him.  When  he  arrived  before  the  Hebrew  town  of 
Bethulia,  Judith,  the  young  and  beautiful  widow  of 
Manasseh,  went  out  to  ensnare  him,  beheaded  him  during  a 


The  Beginning  of  Fame:  Judith  49 

drunken  slumber,  and  returned  unharmed  to  the  city.  There 
she  was  hailed  with  acclaim  by  the  Jews,  who  rushed  forth 
to  attack  and  disperse  their  discomfited  enemy.  In  this 
material,  as  it  stands,  Hebbel  saw  merely  a  crude  story  of 
national  pride  and  triumph.  For  his  feeling  this  Judith  was 
a  monster.  He  believed  that  by  sacrificing  her  he  could 
make  her  a  woman,  a  modern  woman,  and  at  the  same  time 
secure  for  his  tragedy  the  quality  of  the  inevitable.  His 
Judith  could  remain  Jewish  in  her  national  consciousness, 
she  could  become  universal  in  her  personal  protest  against 
the  violence  of  Holofernes,  and  tragic  in  the  conflict  between 
her  divine  mission  and  her  individual  fate.  In  Holofernes 
he  could  show  the  superman,  who,  in  challenging  single- 
handed  the  general  forces  that  produced  him,  met  his  un- 
avoidable doom. 

The  drama  is  built  up  simply.  The  first  act,  brief  but 
comprehensive,  shows  us  the  Assyrian  camp,  which  is  abso- 
lutely dominated  by  the  general,  Holofernes.  He  speaks  the 
first  and  the  last  word,  and  everything  revolves  about  him  as 
completely  as  the  planets  about  their  sun.  Hebbel  believed 
a  dramatic  character,  as  compared  with  life,  must  be  given 
an  exaggerated  degree  of  self-consciousness,  and  in  Holo- 
fernes he  made  full  use  of  this  privilege.  The  Assyrian 
general  is  the  superman,  the  monstrous  Kraftmensch,  hold- 
ing sway  over  his  men  like  fate,  dispensing  life  and  death  on 
the  turning  of  a  hand.  With  a  mocking  smile  he  offers  in- 
cense to  the  gods,  and  in  the  same  mood  he  destroys  their 
images  to  set  up  the  worship  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  whom  he 
intends  to  overthrow.  Nowhere  has  he  found  serious  opposi- 
tion. He  has  grown  weary  of  respecting  no  one  but  himself, 
weary  of  the  fawning  of  weak  men.  A  worthy  foeman  would 
be  welcome  to  him.  His  cruelty  proceeds  from  a  vague  sort 
of  principle.  He  is  trying  out  his  powers,  he  wishes  to  see 
when  and  where  he  will  meet  opposition,  or  whether  perhaps 
he  is  the  measure  of  human  strength.  The  poet  has  told  us 
what  he  meant  to  symbolize  in  this  character.  "Holofernes," 
he  says,  "is  heathendom  run  wild.  In  the  abundance  of  his 
power  he  grasps  the  ultimate  idea  of  history,  the  idea  of 
divinity  to  be  born  out  of  the  womb  of  humanity.     But  to 


50  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

his  thought  he  attributes  demiurgic  force,  and  he  imagines 
himself  to  be  that  which  he  conceives."1 

This  is  the  man  whom  Bethulia  defies  and  who  has  sworn 
to  destroy  the  town  and  all  its  inhabitants  with  fire  and 
sword.  Here  we  have  the  one  extreme — man  defiant  in  the 
consciousness  of  his  own  power.  The  second  act,  almost 
equally  as  brief,  shows  us  the  other  extreme — man  relying 
solely  on  religious  faith  in  a  higher  power.  "Judith,"  if  we 
may  believe  Hebbel,  "is  the  dizzy  summit  of  Judaism,  of  that 
people  who  believed  themselves  to  be  in  a  personal  relation 
with  their  God."2  In  these  two  extremes  the  poet  claims  to 
have  represented  a  fundamental  dualism  of  human  nature. 

The  scene  in  the  second  act  is  in  Bethulia.  It  shows  us 
Judith  in  conversation  with  her  faithful  attendant,  Mirza, 
and  her  lover,  Ephraim.  In  this  act  and  the  beginning  of 
the  next  we  see  Judith's  resolution  take  its  birth,  grow,  and 
mature.  In  order  to  explain  his  heroine,  the  poet  gives  her 
a  peculiar  history  and  places  her  in  unrelenting  circum- 
stances. She  is  a  virgin  widow.  After  six  months  of 
marriage,  her  husband,  Manasseh,  who  had  been  warned  by  a 
supernatural  vision  not  to  touch  her,  died,  leaving  her  in 
ignorance  of  his  vision  and  in  despair  as  to  the  meaning  of 
her  existence.3  But  when  her  town  is  threatened  with  de- 
struction, she  discovers  her  mission,  and  sees  in  her  own 
beauty  the  possibility  of  saving  her  people.  It  is  note- 
worthy that  the  suggestion  comes  to  her  from  without  in  an 
accidental  way.  And  only  after  every  effort  on  her  part  to 
stir  men  to.  action  has  failed,  does  it  take  firm  root  in  her 
mind.  Three  days  of  fasting  and  prayer  in  sackcloth  and 
ashes  convince  her  that  she  has  been  divinely  spared  and 
appointed  to  this  end. 

With  this  conviction  in  her  heart,  and  yet  willing  to  make 
a  further  test  of  it,  she  goes  out  into  the  streets  of  the  city  in 
order  to  see  the  condition  of  the  people  for  herself.  In  these 
street  scenes,  which  occupy  the  remainder  of  the  third  act, 

1  Letter  of  April  3,  1840. 
'Letter  of  April  3,  1840. 

•This  motive,  that  Judith  should  be  neither  virgin  nor  widow,  but 
a  virgin  widow,  was  an  after-thought  of  Hebbel,  and  not  a  happy  one. 


The  Beginning  of  Fame:  Judith  51 

Hebbel  shows  the  full  reach  of  his  powers.  They  are  terse 
and  energetic  in  their  execution,  the  situations  vivid,  the 
types  varied  and  definite  to  an  astonishing  degree.  The 
religious  consciousness  of  the  people  is  everywhere  foremost, 
Jehovah  is  the  invisible  center  of  their  thoughts  and  actions. 
The  town  is  cut  off  from  water,  the  greatest  confusion  and 
suffering  prevail.  Citizens  quarrel  and  fight,  some  doubt 
Jehovah's  power  or  waver  in  their  allegiance  to  him.  The 
elders,  though  themselves  pale  with  consternation,  still 
counsel  faith  in  the  God  of  Moses.  The  aged  Samuel,  long 
burdened  with  consciousness  of  a  murder  committed  in  his 
youth,  regards  himself  as  the  Jonah  of  his  city  and  breaks 
out  with  the  confession  of  his  crime.  The  people  are  torn 
hither  and  thither  by  conflicting  advice,  and  when  those  who 
counsel  submission  to  the  heathen  are  about  to  prevail,  the 
spirit  of  the  Lord  comes  upon  a  dumb  man,  who  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life  speaks  to  confound  them.  Judith  ap- 
pears and  supports  the  chief  elder  in  his  resolution.  It  is  re- 
ported that  Holofernes  has  sworn  to  destroy  them  all — man, 
woman,  and  child — no  matter  what  they  do.  They  finally 
conclude  to  wait  five  days  longer  for  Jehovah's  assistance. 

Through  all  these  scenes  flash  ominous  reports  of  Holo- 
fernes' cruelty.  Thus  Judith  sees  the  utter  helplessness  of 
her  people,  and  at  the  same  time  she  learns  from  Achior  more 
of  their  great  foe,  who  inspires  her  with  horror.  But  her 
horror  is  not  unmingled  with  wonder  at  his  strength  and 
audacity.  When  she  learns  that  he  loves  women  only  as  he 
loves  "food  and  drink,"  she  curses  him  in  her  heart.  Here  is 
the  first  definite  intimation  of  a  confusion  between  her 
divine  mission  and  her  personal  feelings,  of  a  conflict  Winch 
later  assumes  tragic  proportions.  "Her  idea  is  no  longer 
the  product  merely  of  faith  in  God,  but  of  vanity  as  well, 
according  to  the  manner  of  human  nature,  which  is  never 
wholly  pure  nor  wholly  impure."4 

In  this  state  of  mind  she  goes  out  to  entrap  Holofernes 
(Acts  IV  and  V).^  At  every  step  it  is  necessary  for  her  to 
screw  her  courage  to  the  sticking-place.     At  first  she  tests 


Letter  of  April  23,  1840. 


52  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

Holofernes,  to  discover  whether  he  really  would  be  capable  of 
destroying  her  people — man,  woman,  and  child.  When  her 
last  hope  is  thus  cut  off  a  fearful  inner  struggle  begins. 
However  slowly  she  has  been  driven  to  take  her  resolution, 
none  the  less  she  finds,  when  the  time  comes  to  carry  it  out, 
how  greatly  she  has  overestimated  her  strength.  And  when 
she  does  at  last  carry  it  out,  she  draws  her  strength  not  from 
a  divine  mission,  but  from  a  personal  insult.  "She  comes  to 
Holofernes,"  writes  Hebbel,  "she  finds  in  him  the  first  and 
last  man  of  the  earth.  She  feels,  without  becoming  clearly 
conscious  of  it,  that  he  is  the  only  one  whom  she  could  love. 
She  shudders  when  he  rises  in  his  full  greatness  before  her. 
She  is  determined  to  win  his  respect  and  reveals  her  whole 
secret  (i.  e.,  her  intention  to  kill  him).  She  attains  nothing 
by  that,  except  that,  having  toyed  with  her  before,  he  now, 
misunderstanding  her  in  all  her  motives,  really  makes  her 
his  prey."  For  this  she  kills  him  while  he  is  asleep.  Heb- 
bel does  not  neglect  the  probability  of  this  action.  It  lies 
in  Holofernes'  character  that  he  should  not  defend  himself 
against  a  woman.  He  has  no  respect  for  them.  In  their 
hate  he  sees  only  love  disguised.  He  trusts  fully  to  the 
power  of  his  mere  presence  over  them.  To  protect  himself 
against  a  woman  would  be  a  confession  of  weakness. 

Judith's  hate  is  disguised  love.  When  this  love,  with  all 
she  has  to  offer,  is  ruthlessly  degraded,  the  fury  of  her 
nature  is  aroused,  and  this  alone  gives  her  strength  to  kill 
her  enemy.  In  the  next  moment  she  is  made  to  realize,  by 
a  simple  statement  of  Mirza,  that  the  high  religious  motive 
which  should  have  inspired  her  has  been  replaced  by  a  per- 
sonal motive.  This  thought,  together  with  the  confusion 
of  heart  in  its  relation  to  the  man  she  has  killed,  brings  her 
to  the  verge  of  madness.  She  returns  to  Bethulia,  not  as 
her  ecstatic  prototype,  but  a  broken  woman,  demanding 
death  as  her  reward — if  she  must  bear  a  child  to  Holofernes. 
This  IF  has  been  generally  condemned,  because  it  weakens 
the  tragic  effect  by  leaving  the  decision  to  the  future.  Heb- 
bel defended  it,  for  a  very  characteristic  reason,  as  we  shall 
see. 

In  his  Quintessence  of  Ibsenism  Shaw  describes  the  "dis- 


The  Beginning  of  Fame:  Judith  53 

cussion"  as  a  necessary  feature  of  the  modern  problem- 
drama.  Just  because  it  is  a  problem-drama,  arising,  as  he 
says,  "through  a  conflict  of  unsettled  ideals,"  the  discussion 
is  indispensable.  All  of  HebbePs  dramas,  for  this  same 
reason,  make  more  or  less  use  of  the  discussion.  In  Agnes 
Bernauer  it  is  concentrated  more  noticeably  at  the  end  than 
in  any  other  of  his  works,  but  in  all  of  them  it  also  penetrates 
the  action  as  a  whole,  as  it  should.  The  action  is  indeed 
little  more  than  a  dramatic  discussion.  That  is  its  soul. 
The  acts  committed,  however  violent  at  times,  are  but  a 
reflex  of  the  inner  conflict. 

So  in  Judith  the  problem  is  discussed  throughout.  What 
is  this  problem?  A  closer  examination  of  the  drama  shows 
not  one,  but  several.  Meyer-Benfey  has  well  described  Judith 
as  a  tragedy  combining  in  a  single,  direct  action  a  number 
of  ideas  more  or  less  contradictory.  We  know  that  Hebbel 
regarded  every  work  of  art  as  a  concrete  symbol  of  some- 
thing universal.  He  has  told  us  what  he  thought  he  had 
symbolized  in  Judith.  To  consider  that  first,  we  have  a 
Holofernes-problem.  This  is  discussed  throughout,  but 
especially  in  Achior's  portrayal  of  the  Jews  as  strong  only 
in  their  submission  to  the  will  of  Jehovah,  and  in  the  last 
act,  in  the  scenes  between  Judith  and  Holofernes.  The  ques- 
tion centers  about  Holofernes'  power,  what  it  means  and 
what  he  is  to  do  with  it.  He  uses  it  relentlessly,  without  re- 
straint, pity,  or  remorse.  He  hears  only  one  voice,  the  voice 
of  his  exuberant  might.  But  Judith  holds  a  different  view 
from  that.  That  is  not  the  spirit  of  the  nation  whose  wise 
men  taught  that  pride  goes  before  a  fall.  She  warns  Holo- 
fernes in  so  many  words  that  his  strength  will  be  his  snare. 
"You  think  it  exists  in  order  to  take  the  world  by  storm. 
Suppose  it  was  there  in  order  to  control  itself."  To  Holo- 
fernes such  teaching  is  folly,  it  is  the  wisdom  born  of  weak- 
ness. And  yet  Judith  was  right.  Outraged  nature,  horri- 
fied at  its  own  offspring,  destroyed  him  by  the  hand  that  he 
mocked  with  laughter.  From  the  standpoint  of  Hebbel's 
theory  Holofernes  is  a  tragic  figure,  his  tragedy  being  the 
eurse  of  power. 

This  naturally  subserves  the  Judith-tragedy,  which  is 


54  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

the  central  idea  of  the  play,  the  one  with  which  Hebbel  seems 
to  have  begun.  Judith  was  to  sacrifice  herself  for  her 
country,  she  was  to  be  used  and  broken  in  an  heroic  mission. 
This  was  tragedy  enough.  But  Hebbel  introduced  an  addi- 
tional tragedy,  and  another  problem,  in  the  personal  rela- 
tion between  Judith  and  Holofernes :  the  problem  of  man  and 
woman.  This  is  the  same  problem  he  discussed  in  a  series  of 
later  works.  He  always  shows  the  man  misunderstanding, 
or  underrating,  the  woman.  Holofernes  does  not  compre- 
hend Judith,  just  as  Siegfried  does  not  comprehend 
Genoveva,  Herod  does  not  comprehend  Mariamne,  and 
Kandaules  does  not  comprehend  Rhodope.  Hebbel  wrote  in 
his  Diary  that  the  worst  sin  was  to  degrade  a  human  being 
to  a  mere  means.  This  is  what  Holofernes  does  to  Judith, 
and  in  the  crudest  way.  This  is  her  personal  tragedy, 
which  takes  its  peculiar  character  from  her  love  for  the 
oppressor  of  her  country. 

If  Judith  had  not  loved  Holofernes,  and  merely  sacrificed 
herself  for  her  country,  it  would  have  been  the  tragedy  of 
an  heroic  mission.  Her  love  for  him,  however,  gives  his 
treatment  a  personal  aspect  not  essential  to  that  tragedy, 
but  constituting  another  and  different  one.  Hebbel  makes 
an  attempt  to  combine  the  two.  He  explains  Judith's 
change  of  motive,  as  we  have  seen,  by  declaring  it  is  "accord- 
ing to  the  manner  of  human  nature,  which  is  never  wholly 
pure,  nor  wholly  impure."  Or  he  indicates  more  plainly 
that  Judith's  real  tragedy  is  her  struggle  with  her  womanly 
weakness.  "Your  thoughts  are  growing  out  beyond  you," 
says  Mirza  to  her.  And  the  poet  declares :  "In  Judith  I 
portray  the  deed  of  a  woman — this  willing  without  power, 
this  doing,  which  is,  after  all,  not  action."  This  points  to 
still  another  tragic  conflict  in  Judith,  which  is  not  really 
embodied  in  the  drama  in  the  sense  that  Hebbel  means. 
Judith  acts  with  all  the  energy  we  could  expect  of  any 
human  being  under  the  circumstances,  only  from  other 
motives  than  she  intended. 

In  making  this  last  suggestion,  Hebbel  was  desirous  of 
bringing  his  tragedy  in  direct  relation  to  the  "woman's  ques- 
tion" of  his  times.     The  emancipation  of  woman  was  among 


The  Beginning  of  Fame:  Judith  55 

the  watchwords  of  Young  Germany.  In  Hebbel's  view  the 
whole  movement  was  an  abomination.  Abolishing  the  con- 
ventions that  separate  men  and  women,  or  overlooking  the 
broad  distinctions  between  their  spheres  and  functions  in  life, 
seemed  utter  confusion  to  him.  "The  folly  of  our  times,"  he 
writes  (April  6,  1841),  "which  practices  idolatry  with  some 
abnormal,  but  brilliant  individual  women,  and  which  out  of  a 
disease,  out  of  a  return  to  chaos,  attempts  to  abstract  new 
laws  of  life — such  folly  can  repel  no  one  more  than  myself." 
In  his  Diary,  at  this  time  particularly,  we  find  a  number  of 
bitter  statements  about  women,  and,  even  after  allowing  for 
the  fact  that  his  Diary  often  exhibits  varying  and  contra- 
dictory moods,  we  must  conclude  that  he  held  a  poor  opinion 
of  their  creative  powers.  They  are  considered  to  be  strong 
only  in  their  qualities  as  mothers  and  wives.  It  is  in  accord 
with  this  spirit  that  Hebbel  claimed  to  have  shown  in  Judith 
a  woman  who  attempted  to  act  but  failed.  And  thus  he 
supposed  that,  among  other  things,  he  had  set  up  a  symbol 
of  woman's  limitations  in  that  regard.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
we  do  not  receive  this  impression  from  the  drama.  The 
chief  impression  we  do  receive  in  regard  to  woman  is  that 
she  has  as  full  claim  to  personality  as  any  man,  and  that  the 
failure  to  recognize  this  truth  is  disastrous.  And  if  Hebbel's 
works,  as  a  whole,  teach  any  one  thing  supremely,  they  do 
teach  this.  No  modern  poet  can  claim  to  be  so  true  an 
advocate  of  the  real  rights  of  woman  as  Hebbel.  There  is 
no  essential  contradiction  in  his  attitude.  He  himself  fur- 
nished the  key  to  his  view  when  he  said  that  woman  should 
be  emancipated  by  man,  not  by  society.  This  means  that 
she  does  not  need  a  wider  sphere,  but  to  be  treated  as  a 
human  being  in  the  one  she  already  occupies. 

Judith,  being  Hebbel's  first  drama,  and,  all  things  con- 
sidered, an  astonishing  success,  it  is  perhaps  not  surprising 
that  he  should  have  exaggerated  the  number  of  things  it 
"symbolized."  It  was  supposed  to  symbolize,  as  we  have 
seen,  the  conflict  between  Judaism  and  Heathenism,  the 
tragedy  of  individuation,  or  the  curse  of  power,  the  relation 
of  man  and  woman,  and,  particularly,  woman's  inability  to 
act  on  a  large  scale.     This  would  be  too  much  for  one  work 


56  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

to  symbolize.  For  example,  if  Judith  represents  Judaism, 
or  submission  to  divine  will,  in  the  first  part  of  the  tragedy, 
she  represents  her  individual  self  in  the  last  part.  And,  of 
course,  each  of  these  impressions  weakens  the  other.  Holo- 
fernes  does  symbolize  the  curse  of  power,  but  Judith  does  not 
symbolize  woman's  powerlessness  to  act.  To  sum  up,  there- 
fore, we  may  say  that  the  tragedy  of  Judith  is  the  tragedy 
of  a  heroic  mission,  of  an  individual  sacrificed  to  save  her 
country;  and  also,  though  without  organic  connection,  the 
tragedy  of  one  individual  being  used  as  a  mere  intoxicant 
by  another. 

We  now  come  to  the  question  of  why  Hebbel  placed  the 
final  decision  of  Judith's  life  or  death  beyond  the  close  of 
the  drama.  This  is  very  intimately  connected  with  his 
dramatic  theory,  and  we  may  regard  it  as  a  clear  instance 
where  he  was  misled  by  his  theory.  With  his  intense  con- 
sciousness of  the  Universal,  which  we  have  already  noticed 
in  his  lyric  poems,  he  must  give  the  Universal  a  definite  part 
in  his  drama.  In  this  case  the  Universal  is  the  focus  of  the 
Jewish  religious  faith,  in  plain  terms,  Jehovah.  Now,  it  is 
true  that  Hebbel  chiefly  represents  his  Universal  through 
human  character,  the  only  satisfactory  way,  and  he  does  this 
in  Judith  as  well.  He  does  not  introduce  any  supernatural 
links  into  his  chain  of  motives.  But  in  order  to  create  a 
certain  atmosphere,  to  make  his  persons  seem  real,  to  estab- 
lish a  certain  milieu,  he  makes  use  of  supernatural  elements. 
He  does  this  very  sparingly,  and  very  wisely.  In  Judith 
he  invents  episodes  entirely  in  keeping  with  Biblical  report, 
much  in  the  same  way  as  he  uses  some  Biblical  language,  and 
for  the  same  purpose.  And  yet  it  accords  with  his  wish  if 
these  supernatural  elements,  such  as  Manasseh's  vision  on 
his  wedding  night,  and  the  loosening  of  the  dumb  man's 
tongue,  serve  to  underscore  the  Universal  acting  in  and 
through  the  purely  human  agents  of  the  work.  As  he 
originally  conceived  Judith,  Jehovah  was  the  hero.  And 
this  is  why  he  leaves  the  final  word  to  Jehovah  at  the  end. 
Whether  or  not  Judith  shall  bear  a  child  to  Holofernes  is 
left  to  Jehovah's  decision,  and  thus  she  seeks  his  approval 
or  disapproval  of  her  action.     That  this  cannot  alter  her 


The  Beginning  of  Fame:  Judith  57 

second,  or  personal  tragedy,  is  clear.  And  at  the  close  of 
the  play  this  impression  is  so  strong  in  our  minds  that  we 
already  regard  her  as  a  tragic  victim. 

In  Judith  Hebbel  first  showed  the  great  qualities  of  his 
art:  a  strong  grasp  of  character  and  situation,  a  mastery 
over  the  means  of  individualizing,  a  surprising  depth  and 
passion  of  thought,  and  a  lofty  conception  of  the  drama  as  a 
symbol  of  life.  The  work  had  its  serious  faults,  of  course. 
We  must  agree  with  Meyer-Benfey,  that  it  shows  weakness 
in  formative  power,  that  it  lacks  action,  and  that  the  char- 
acters often  talk  at,  rather  than  with  one  another.  One 
half  of  the  second  act  is  made  up  chiefly  of  Judith's  exposi- 
tional  narrative;  Judith,  in  her  appeal  to  Ephraim  to  kill 
Holofernes,  has  too  clear  a  consciousness  of  Hebbel's 
dramatic  theory;  or,  worse  still,  the  reflections  of  Holo- 
fernes at  the  beginning  of  Act  IV  are  altogether  too  many 
and  too  rationalistic ;  there  are  some  unnecessary  mono- 
logues, and  a  number  of  awkward  "asides;"  and  that  the 
Assyrian  general,  in  his  boastings  of  power,  far  exceeds 
human  bounds,  cannot  escape  our  notice.  But,  in  spite  of 
all  this,  Judith  bears  on  every  page  the  stamp  of  originality. 
The  irregularities,  the  exaggerations,  and  the  other  disturb- 
ing features  incidental  to  a  first  trying-out  of  power,  could 
not  really  counteract  the  workings  of  that  power. 

In  local  color,  peculiar  custom  and  usage,  in  detailed 
historical  milieu  as  such,  Hebbel  showed  no  exaggerated 
interest  in  his  dramas,  and  Judith  is  typical  in  this  respect. 
Yet  from  the  first,  it  was  a  settled  maxim  with  him  that  the 
characters  should  not  hover  in  the  air,  but  be  firmly  rooted 
in  their  native  soil.  He  perhaps  best  expressed  his  conception 
in  the  following  comparison:  As  water,  in  filtering  through 
different  soils,  acquires  in  each  case  a  differing  taste,  so 
should  the  characters  in  any  drama  have  their  distinctive 
connection.  He  strove  to  attain  the  essential  reflex  of  their 
times  in  the  minds  of  his  persons.  Holofernes  he  meant  to  be 
a  typical  oriental  despot,  unchecked  in  his  whims,  obeying 
every  caprice,  and  he  was  pleased  to  have  his  conception  ap- 
proved by  a  competent  scholar.  So  he  reconstructs  the  Jews 
in  their  religious  consciousness.     He  is  not  profuse  with  de- 


58  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

tails,  but  what  he  gives  counts,  because  it  is  characteristic. 
His  general  relation  to  material  as  history,  or  tradition,  is 
also  typically  shown  in  Judith.  As  he  interpreted  the  present, 
so  he  interpreted  the  past,  that  is,  he  stood  in  a  personal 
relation  to  it.  "Indifferent  nature's  endless  length  of 
thread,"  he  frankly  separates  into  rhythmic  parts,  and  thus 
disavows  realism,  in  so  far  as  that  may  be  the  pursuit  of  the 
ignis  fatuus  of  "what  is." 

Hebbel  had  some  fears  as  to  the  fate  of  his  first  drama 
on  the  stage,  and  this  from  a  double  point  of  view.  As 
satisfying  as  the  scenes  appeared  to  be  in  imagination,  he 
wondered  how  they  would  appear  on  the  stage,  in  flesh  and 
blood.  Then  he  was  in  doubt  about  the  audience.  He  held 
the  opinion  that  the  contemporary  audience  was  used  to 
nothing  whole  and  organic,  but  to  works  depending  for 
success  on  accidental  appeals  rather  than  on  artistic  unity, 
and  made  up  chiefly  of  a  mixture  of  sentiment  and  satire. 
He  never  abandoned  this  view,  and  laid  the  blame  largely 
at  the  door  of  the  Young  Germans,  who  desired  to  make 
literature  serve  all  kinds  of  exterior  ends.  In  spite  of 
his  fears,  however,  Judith  went  on  the  stage  immediately. 
Through  the  kindness  of  Amalia  Schoppe,  Hebbel  sent  his 
manuscript  to  the  well-known  actress,  Madam  Stich-Cre- 
linger  in  Berlin,  who  accorded  it  an  enthusiastic  reception, 
and  began  actively  to  work  for  its  production.  So  Judith  was 
given  at  the  Court  Theater  in  Berlin  for  the  first  time  on 
Monday,  July  6,  1840.  The  audience  consisted  almost  en- 
tirely of  men.  The  play  met  with  fair  success  and  was  re- 
peated a  number  of  times.  It  was  also  given  in  Hamburg 
with  success  before  the  end  of  the  year.  To  be  sure,  the 
poet  was  forced  to  sacrifice  one  of  the  chief  motives  of  the 
drama.  The  fifth  act  was  changed,  so  that  after  Holo- 
fernes  says  to  Judith,  "Fall  down  and  worship  me,"  she 
acts  only  from  religious  and  patriotic  motives.  The  sexual 
element  was  omitted  entirely.  The  whole  ended  with  a 
grand  patriotic  flare,  the  Jews  rushing  in  with  warlike 
music  after  Holofernes'  death,  while  Judith,  sword  in  hand, 
referred  them  to  Jehovah  as  their  rescuer.  The  original 
version  was  not  restored  until  1896,  when  the  drama  was 


The  Beginning  of  Fame:  Judith  59 

presented  in  the  Royal  Play-House  in  Berlin.  Judith  is  still 
among  Hebbel's  most  frequently  acted  works. 

The  critical  estimates  of  the  new  drama  varied  greatly. 
What  was  to  be  true  of  each  of  his  dramas  was  true  of  this 
one — it  was  an  event  and  a  problem.  He  was  never  damned 
with  faint  praise.  On  the  one  hand  he  was  hailed  as  a  star 
of  first  magnitude,  while  on  the  other  his  tragedy  was  de- 
clared to  be  valueless  for  the  modern  stage.  Or  he  was 
praised  highly,  but  warned  that  he  must  learn  his  art  better. 
He  was  censured  for  modernizing  the  Biblical  material, 
Judith  and  Holofernes  were  declared  to  be  caricatures ;  it 
was  said  that  the  last  act  had  been  hissed  and  ridiculed. 
But  the  popular  scenes  were  praised  and  the  language  com- 
mended, though  some  thought  verse  would  have  been  better. 
Hebbel  was  also  declared  to  be  incomparably  more  poetic 
than  Gutzkow,  praise  not  likely  to  gain  him  that  author's 
favor.  Wienbarg  wrote  a  review,  which  Hebbel  found,  upon 
second  reading,  to  be  favorable.  But  perhaps  the  most 
interesting  article  was  that  by  Gutzkow  in  his  Telegraph, 
December,  1840.  It  is  skilfully  done,  and  at  bottom  rather 
malicious.  The  writer  gives  himself  the  air  of  extreme 
objectivity  and  impartiality.  He  deplores  the  necessity  of 
criticism,  and  seldom  offers  any  praise  that  he  does  not 
manage  to  retract  later.  When  we  expect  him  to  call  our 
attention  to  some  excellence,  he  uncovers  a  defect.  The 
central  motive  for  Judith's  act  he  finds  unfortunate,  and 
thinks  that  the  traditional  version  was  clearer  and  more 
credible.  Indeed,  according  to  Gutzkow,  we  must  look  for 
some  motive  extraneous  to  the  ordinary  human  mind,  to 
some  transcendent  sphere,  which  is  the  real  scene  of  the 
tragedy.  The  whole  play  is  allegorical,  the  cipher  of  an 
abstraction.  The  language,  while  good,  is  too  reasoned  to 
be  poetical.  Judith  is  something  of  a  braggart,  Holofernes 
a  "concept."  The  popular  scenes  are  good,  and  the  composi- 
tion "chaste,"  only  the  plot  lacks  variety  and  complication; 
in  fact,  the  action  is  too  simple  for  the  modern  stage.  Thers> 
can  be  no  doubt  that  Gutzkow  saw  in  Hebbel  an  unpleasant 
rival,  doubly  unpleasant  because  so  uncompromising. 

In  the  first  flush  of  success,  Hebbel,  in  transient  mood* 


60  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

at  least,  was  carried  beyond  himself.  Thoroughly  con- 
vinced that  he  had  produced  a  new  kind  of  work,  he  gave  his 
real  contempt  for  the  "sparrows"  a  more  unrestrained  ex- 
pression than  ever  before.  If  he  brusquely  dismissed  com- 
parison with  Shakespeare  as  exaggeration  and  flattery,  he 
none  the  less  "despised  people  like  Gutzkow,"  who  imagined 
that  they  were  dramatic  poets,  "because  they  put  a  story  in 
dialogue  form,  or  touched  up  some  character  anew."5  He 
sent  Gutzkow  a  copy  of  Judith,  but  not  before  that  author 
had  asked  for  one  in  a  friendly  and  flattering  letter.  The 
note  accompanying  this  copy  (April  1,  1840),  was  coolly 
polite,  and  took  occasion  to  mention  the  sender's  high  regard 
for  Gutzkow's  critical  works,  with  perhaps  an  implied 
emphasis  on  the  word  "critical."  As  a  result  he  received  a 
"politic  letter"  in  reply,  just  before  Gutzkow  left  Hamburg 
for  Berlin.  And  the  fear  that  he  had  offended  the  "guidlog 
powers"  unwisely,  already  began  to  oppress  him.  He  had 
supposed  that  the  writing  of  Judith  would  at  least  settle- 
once  for  all  his  own  doubts  on  the  score  of  his  talent,  but 
the  very  opposite  was  true.  "The  old  despairing  moods" 
returned  to  vex  him.  "Alas,  that  there  is  no  safe  inner 
criterion!"  he  exclaims. 

And  while  Judith  made  him  known,  it  was  no  open  road 
to  success.  The  Cotta  Publishing  House — the  publishers  of 
Goethe  and  Schiller — refused  his  offer  of  publication.  A 
Leipzig  firm  to  whom  he  offered  some  of  his  stories  did  not 
even  answer  his  letter,  and  the  same  grim  problem  of  exist- 
ence stared  him  in  the  face  as  before.  He  turned  again  to 
the  more  enterprising  Campe,  Heine's  publisher,  in  Ham- 
burg, who,  in  March,  1841,  bought  Judith  on  the  most 
favorable  terms — for  himself,  as  the  poet  discovered  later. 
The  price  was  ten  louis  d'or.  A  suit  of  clothes  cost  him  a 
little  over  three,  but  after  his  recent  experiences  he  breathed 
threefold  thanks  to  Heaven  for  his  bargain.  "Again  a  little 
space  in  front  of  me  in  which  I  can  work  and  create  freely !" 

6  Briefe  II,  p.  29. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Genoveva 

WHETHER  he  looked  within  or  without,  the  poet  found 
cause  for  serious  reflection.  On  August  13,  1840, 
he  made  the  following  characteristic  summary  in  his  Diary: 
"This  year  is  the  fullest  of  my  life.  But  I  must  confess  it, 
though  I  can  be  satisfied  with  my  fate,  I  cannot  be  satisfied 
with  myself.  The  elements  of  which  I  consist  still  rage  and 
ferment  within  me,  as  if  they  were  not  even  enclosed  in  a  con- 
fining individual  form.  One  wars  with  another  .  .  . 
victory  is  now  on  this  side,  now  on  that,  but  the  law  is  lack- 
ing I  ...  It  is  difficult,  to  be  sure,  infinitely  difficult,  to 
elevate  one's  life  to  a  work  of  art,  when  one  has  such  hot 
blood  as  I  have.  .  .  .  Yet  it  is  possible  to  approach  closer 
and  closer  to  this  goal,  and  I  am  not  even  on  the  way." 

A  glance  at  his  life  during  this  summer  fully  confirms  his 
self-accusation.  The  heaviest  responsibilities  and  obliga- 
tions were  pressing  upon  him,  while  he  seemed  unable  to 
steady  himself  to  meet  them.  Whatever  had  been  his  words 
from  Munich  to  Elise  about  pure  friendship  and  the 
vanished  intoxication  of  the  senses,  he  had  forgotten  them. 
In  the  beginning  of  November  she  became  the  mother  of  his 
first  son.  She  had  left  Hamburg  temporarily,  and  the 
poet's  letters  to  her  during  the  months  immediately  preced- 
ing the  birth  of  their  child  present  a  unique  picture.  Side 
by  side  with  the  outpourings  of  his  soul  in  admiration  for 
her  unselfishness,  we  find  the  frank  confession  of  his  love  for 
Emma  Schroder,  a  young  Hamburg  beauty  of  wealth  and 
standing,  whom  he  had  met  in  July.  This  new  relation 
thrilled  his  passionate  nature  with  a  different  warmth. 
"Love,"  he  writes  to  Elise,  who  was  past  youth  and  had 
never  possessed  beauty,  "is  a  different  thing  from  friendship, 
and  it  is  also  true  that  love  is  bound  to  youth  and  beauty." 
The  ruthless  egotism  of  these  words  under  the  circumstances 

61 


62  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

is  astonishing.  Hebbel  meant  it  for  frankness,  which  it 
certainly  was.  His  passion  for  Emma  Schroder,  who  was 
not  averse  to  his  attentions,  was  genuine.  It  was  perhaps 
his  strongest  love.  Insignificant  gossip  is  said  to  have 
broken  off  the  relation,  which  the  poet  thought  might  have 
brightened  his  whole  existence.  It  is  doubtful,  however, 
whether  he  could  have  broken  with  Elise  at  that  time.  As 
strong  as  was  his  passion,  and  as  much  as  he,  particularly 
in  these  years,  considered  himself  an  exceptional  being  who 
should  not  risk  his  career  on  conventions,  his  feelings  were  in 
great  confusion  as  a  result  of  his  double  relation.  He  had 
not  yet  reached  that  clearness  of  conviction  which  later  gave 
him  strength  to  sacrifice  Elise,  for  his  affairs  had  not  yet 
reached  their  climax  of  desperation.  However  much  he 
spoke  of  friendship,  he  knew  that  he  had  accepted  from  Elise 
what  friendship  should  not  accept,  and  he  could  not  suppress 
the  voice  of  his  conscience  until  years  of  inner  suffering 
seemed  to  him  in  some  sort  to  outweigh  his  guilt. 

Elise's  money  was  practically  exhausted,  and  the  prob- 
lem of  supporting  three  had  to  be  solved.  While  engaged 
on  Judith,  the  poet  had  undertaken  to  compile  two  histories 
for  a  popular  series:  a  Thirty  Years9  War  and  a  Joan  of 
Arc.  The  compensation  was  very  slight,  but  better  than 
nothing.  Most  of  the  necessary  reading  had  been  done  in 
Munich.  These  histories  were  published  under  an  assumed 
name,  and  when  taxed  with  their  authorship  Hebbel  denied 
it  outright.  He  was  unwilling  to  be  known  in  a  public  way 
in  connection  with  such  efforts,  inasmuch  as  he  intended  to 
enroll  his  name  among  the  poets.  The  histories  themselves 
are  interesting  and,  though  based  entirely  on  secondary 
sources,  they  show  individuality  in  interpretation  and  great 
skill  in  arrangement.  Hebbel  had  a  theory  of  history,  pretty 
well  formulated,  as  Werner  has  pointed  out,1  in  his  words  to 
Wihl,  that  "it  furnishes  the  proof  that  everything  is  neces- 
sary. "  The  Reformation  and  the  Thirty  Years'  War  to- 
gether, in  his  opinion,  prevented  Christianity  from  sinking 
back  into  heathenism,  and  he  groups  his  material  energeti- 


*W.  IX,  p.  XXII. 


Genoveva  63 


cally  to  illustrate  that  view.  The  persons  involved  he  ex- 
plains with  a  psychological  depth  that  bespeaks  the  drama- 
tist. His  story  of  Joan  of  Arc  is  particularly  interesting, 
in  view  of  his  relation  to  that  subject  as  possible  dramatic 
material.  The  existence  of  Schiller's  play,  however,  and  its 
firm  hold  on  the  stage  and,  what  was  more  important,  the 
transfer  of  his  interest  to  Judith,  prevented  him  from  under- 
taking that  task.  His  opinion  of  Schiller's  Jungfrau  varied 
considerably  from  time  to  time.  First,  he  says  the  subject 
was  "botched"  by  Schiller,  that  his  Maid  is  a  "stage-maid," 
but  later  he  speaks  of  Schiller's  work  as  a  great  poem.  His 
final  opinion  is  that  expressed  in  his  review  of  the  Corre- 
spondence between  Schiller  and  Korner  (1848),  where  he  is 
unable  to  understand  why  Schiller  chose  a  subject  demand- 
ing a  psychological  treatment  and  therefore  out  of  his 
realm.  Hebbel  thought  that  Joan  must  be  carefully  guarded 
from  introspection,  that,  like  a  sleep-walker,  she  must  go  on 
her  way,  and  even  at  the  last  plunge  with  closed  eyes  into 
the  abyss.  Her  unaffected  naivete  should  suffer  no  inter- 
ruption. In  this  sense  his  summary  of  her  life  is  made.  She 
is  regarded,  like  Judith,  as  a  sacrifice  demanded  by  divine 
powers.  The  miraculous  events  in  her  career  are  related 
simply,  with  no  attempt  to  account  for  them.  And  in  the 
eyes  of  Joan,  genuine  religious  leader  that  she  is,  Heaven 
and  earth  exist  side  by  side.  The  whole  story  is  told  with 
its  author's  customary  energy  of  outline  and  effective  group- 
ing, which  make  it  charming  reading  from  first  to  last. 

In  the  meantime  Hebbel  had  begun  to  write  a  second 
tragedy,  Genoveva  (September,  1840),  which  was  completed 
by  March  of  the  succeeding  year.  The  new  work  was  in 
nearly  every  way  a  contrast  to  Judith.  The  heroine  is  a 
Christian  saint,  a  woman  that  is  great  through  her  suffering, 
while  Judith's  tragedy  results  from  her  action.  The  new 
drama  was  written  in  blank  verse,  evidencing  in  meter  and 
language  a  thorough  study  of  Goethe  and  Kleist.  It  is  in- 
comparably more  poetic  than  Judith,  and  in  this  respect  the 
first  two  acts  of  it  mark  the  height  of  Hebbel's  attainments, 
with  the  sole  exception  of  Gyges  and  His  Ring.  Its  heroine 
is  made  up  of  the  two  women  who  most  influenced  the  poet's 
thought  during  its  execution.  Genoveva  combines  the  martyr- 


64  The  Life  and  Works  of  Fried  rich  Hebbel 

like  patience  that  Hebbel  attributed  to  Elise  Lensing,  and 
the  youth  and  beauty  that  inspired  him  with  passion  for 
Emma  Schroder.  From  this  passion,  no  doubt,  the  opening 
acts  of  the  drama,  which  were  written  in  a  single  dash  of 
power,  draw  their  fire.  But  the  composition  of  the  new  work, 
as  a  whole,  is  far  inferior  to  that  of  Judith.  It  is  less  suited 
to  the  stage  than  any  other  of  its  author's  tragedies. 

The  beginnings  of  the  second  tragedy,  like  those  of  the 
first,  point  us  back  to  Munich.  During  his  student  days 
there  Hebbel,  not  then  acquainted  with  Tieck's  Genoveva, 
had  formulated  in  a  private  criticism  of  the  Storm  and 
Stress  version  of  the  same  material  by  Maler  Miiller  his  own 
conception  of  its  dramatic  content.  And  with  such  precision 
that  his  words  read  almost  like  a  synopsis  of  the  later  drama. 
The  material,  in  its  essential  form,  is  very  old,  going  back 
to  the  oriental  story  of  the  Israelitish  Sadi  and  his  pious 
wife.  In  its  medieval  surroundings  and  settings  it  was  kept 
alive  by  various  more  or  less  unorganic  accretions,  until  a 
better  organized  version  was  given  it  by  the  German  monk, 
Martin  Kochem,  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Inasmuch  as 
Hebbel  follows  the  tradition  rather  closely  it  is  worth  while 
to  outline  that  here.  Count  Siegfried,  in  setting  out  to  fight 
against  the  Moors,  takes  leave  of  his  wife,  Genoveva.  She 
faints  in  his  arms,  and  when  she  awakes  Siegfried  commits 
her  to  the  care  of  his  friend,  Golo,  for  the  time  of  his  ab- 
sence. She  faints  a  second  time,  and  Siegfried,  though  bit- 
terly weeping,  departs  without  more  ado.  Golo  is  inflamed 
with  love  for  Genoveva,  who,  after  she  has  repelled  him  three 
times,  at  last  threatens  to  tell  her  husband  of  his  importu- 
nities. Thereupon  his  love  is  changed  to  hate  and  fear.  By 
an  infamous  intrigue  he  accuses  her  of  having  committed 
adultery  with  a  servant,  Drago,  and  throws  her  into  prison, 
where  her  child  is  born.  A  message  is  sent  to  Siegfried,  ac- 
cusing her,  and  he  orders  Drago  to  be  killed.  Golo  rides  to 
meet  him  in  Strassburg  on  his  way  home,  and  there  a  witch, 
the  sister  of  Golo's  assiduous  nurse,  shows  Siegfried  Gen- 
oveva's  fall,  pictured  in  a  magic  mirror.  Genoveva  is  con- 
demned to  death  and  Golo  returns  to  the  castle  to  give  her 
over  to  the  murderers.    They,  however,  take  pity  on  her  and 


Genoveva  65 

allow  her  to  escape  with  her  child.  Siegfried  is  uneasy  in 
spirit  because  of  what  he  has  done,  and  Golo  leaves  the 
castle  through  fear  of  his  master's  suspicion.  The  spirit  of 
Drago  appears,  convincing  Siegfried  of  his  wife's  innocence. 
While  hunting  in  the  forest,  seven  years  later,  he  discovers 
his  wife  and  boy,  whom  Heaven  has  protected.  Golo  is  torn 
in  pieces  by  oxen.  There  is  a  complete  reconciliation,  fol- 
lowed by  an  account  of  Genoveva's  gracious  death. 

What  chiefly  interested  Hebbel  in  this  material  was  the 
character  of  Golo.  Here  was  a  man  led  to  destruction  by  his 
deepest  and  truest  emotion,  a  problematic  case,  illustrating 
the  dualistic  and  self-destructive  elements  of  life.  The  entire 
drama  is  built  up  on  the  terrible  words,  intended  by  the  poet 
for  the  text,  but  finally  omitted,  words  fortunately  not  alto- 
gether true :  "What  a  man  may  become,  he  is  already."  It  is 
in  this  sense,  however,  that  the  character  is  developed.  How 
Golo,  a  mere  youth,  whose  first  and  only  love  centers  on 
Genoveva,  can  come  to  betray  his  friend  and,  advancing 
step  by  step,  involve  himself  in  irreparable  wrong,  how  this 
process  has  its  subtle  beginnings  beneath  his  own  conscious- 
ness at  first,  and  then  accelerates  its  movement  until  it  be- 
comes a  settled  purpose — such  was  the  problem  Hebbel  un- 
dertook to  solve.  Himself  under  the  influence  of  a  passion 
to  which  he  dared  not  yield,  he  created  a  poetic  character 
who  pursued  the  fatal  course  to  its  inevitable  end.  In  Golo 
the  self- justification  of  a  strong  passion  is  carried  to  a  logi- 
cal conclusion.  Every  passion  is  an  elemental  force,  in  itself 
neither  right  nor  wrong.  The  manner  and  circumstances 
of  its  appearance  alone  can  determine  whether  it  is  to  be  a 
blessing  or  a  curse. 

The  triangle  drama,  however  old  in  art,  presents  diffi- 
culties rarely  solved.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  draw  the 
lines  so  that  sonie'one  of  the  three  persons  will  not  appear 
incomprehensible  or  brutal.  Especially  is  this  true  of  a 
psychological  treatment,  which  was  Hebbel's  forte.  In  his 
tragedy  two  of  the  persons  are  plain  enough.  Genoveva's 
soul  is  as  clear  as  crystal,  untainted  and  undimmed.  Golo, 
likewise,  pursues  one  straightforward  course  from  beginning 
to  end.     He  believes  his  love  for  Genoveva  is  stronger  than 


66  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

Siegfried's,  and  hence  justified.  But  the  position  of  Sieg- 
fried is  incomprehensible,  so  much  so  that  the  most  compe- 
tent critics  disagree  in  their  estimate  of  him.  The  poet 
himself,  in  the  analysis  he  wrote  before  the  tragedy,  put  the 
chief  blame  on  Siegfried  for  his  failure  to  comprehend  his 
wife.  When  he  came  to  the  actual  execution,  however,  for 
fear  of  making  him  crude  he  incurred  the  risk  of  making  him 
uncertain. 

The  scene  of  parting,  constituting  at  the  same  time  the 
general  exposition,  becomes  in  Hebbel's  treatment  the  pivot 
of  the  action.  It  is  a  masterpiece  of  dramatic  poetry.  Geno- 
veva,  the  saintly,  and  as  fair  as  she  is  saintly,  who  has  in  gen- 
tleness of  spirit  shared  each  of  her  husband's  kisses  with 
thoughts  of  Heaven,  and  never  yet  revealed  to  him  her  love  in 
full  intensity,  is  overcome  in  the  moment  of  separation,  and 
shows  herself  to  be  "a  woman,  a  woman  like  none  on  earth." 
Golo,  at  first  an  involuntary  witness  of  this  scene,  is  chained 
to  the  spot  by  an  irresistible  power,  as  feelings  till  then  dor- 
mant in  him,  burst  into  his  consciousness.  It  is  this  moment, 
fatal  to  all  three  persons,  that  Hebbel  describes  as  "over- 
whelming and  tragic  in  the  highest  degree."  In  this  moment 
Genoveva's  abandon  comes  to  Siegfried  as  a  new  revelation 
of  her  love ;  in  this  moment  he  receives  the  confession  of  her 
approaching  motherhood.  She  faints  in  his  arms,  and  he, 
laying  his  wife  in  the  arms  of  his  friend,  steals  away,  as 
Golo  says,  like  a  coward,  because  a  man  must  part  "before 
the  tears  come  into  his  eyes."  Up  to  this  point,  indeed, 
Siegfried's  true  and  beautiful  words  reveal  no  inner  weak- 
ness ;  they  do  not  suggest  that  he  will  fail  in  the  supreme 
trial;  but  the  instant  and  manner  of  his  departure  prepare 
us  to  some  extent  for  that  contingency.  Too  much  praise 
cannot  be  given  to  the  psychological  truth  of  Golo's  words 
and  actions  under  these  circumstances.  His  weakening  faith 
in  Siegfried  finds  a  powerful  auxiliary  in  his  awakened  love 
for  Genoveva.  Against  his  will,  as  if  another  voice  were 
speaking  out  of  him,  he  indicates  to  Genoveva  in  subtle 
words  the  lethargy  of  her  husband's  feelings. 

Hebbel's  power  of  exposition  is  always  great,  and  it  is 
seen  to  exceptional  advantage  in  Genoveva.     Not,  however, 


Genoveva  67 

from  the  standpoint  of  the  stage.  An  almost  impossible  situ- 
ation is  offered  us.  Siegfried  and  Genoveva  in  the  foreground, 
and  Golo  in  the  background,  speaking  over  their  heads  to 
the  audience.  The  inner  action  is  very  concise  through  the 
first  two  acts.  Beginning  with  the  third  act  the  course  of 
events  becomes  too  broad  and  devious.  It  is  not  Genoveva, 
but  Golo,  who  occupies  the  center  of  our  attention,  espe- 
cially after  the  opening  scenes.  She  suffers,  it  is  true,  but 
her  misfortunes  are  external,  her  own  saintly  nature  is 
untouched  with  earthly  evil.  There  is  no  conflict  in  her  soul, 
and  Golo  is  doomed  to  failure  from  the  beginning. 

Golo's  character  is  explained  in  his  saying  that  the 
deepest  repentance  does  not  lead  back  to  the  right  way.  On 
the  contrary,  it  crushes  its  victim  with  the  feeling  of  his  own 
worthlessness.  This  is  the  active  principle  of  his  self-destruc- 
tion. Terrified  at  first  by  his  love  and  faithlessness,  he  at- 
tempts to  leave  the  decision  to  God  by  flagrantly  risking  his 
life.  But  God  places  the  decision  back  on  him,  a  fact  that 
he  never  seems  fully  to  realize.  Instead  of  inferring  that  he 
should  conquer  himself,  he  infers  that  he  is  "born  to  be  a 
villain."  Genoveva's  goodness  only  accelerates  the  evil  in 
him.  Recognizing  the  noble  qualities  in  his  youthful  mind 
she  continually  endeavors  to  arouse  his  better  nature  and 
recall  him  to  a  sense  of  his  duty.  The  only  result  is  that  he 
regards  her  perfection  as  the  measure  of  his  depravity.  He 
conceives  a  mania  for  forcing  her  into  some  error,  even  of 
the  slightest  kind,  in  a  fruitless  effort  to  change  the  measure, 
since  he  cannot  change  that  to  which  the  measure  applies. 
A  single  flaw  in  her  would  relieve,  it  seems  to  him,  the  burden 
of  horror  that  weighs  upon  his  conscience.  But  the  good  is 
inexorable  in  its  bright  nature  and  Golo  must  follow  out  the 
path  which  he  knows  in  advance,  and  every  step  of  which  is 
renewed  agony  to  his  soul. 

After  Genoveva  has  remained  true  in  prison  her  torture 
is  capable  of  one  higher  degree,  the  doubt  of  her  husband. 
He  is  the  only  man  from  whom  she  has  the  right  to  expect 
absolute  trust,  because  he  is  the  only  one  who,  like  God,  had 
seen  into  the  depths  of  her  soul.  This  absolute  trust  Golo 
now  sets  himself  to  destroy.    If  he  can  undermine  Siegfried's 


68  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

faith  in  her  perhaps  he  can  make  her  unworthy  of  it.  If  so, 
the  result  will  justify  the  means  and  show  that,  after  all, 
she  was  but  on  his  own  level. 

Siegfried,  returning  from  the  war,  lies  wounded  in 
Strassburg.  Thither  Golo  rides  to  see  him  and  begins  to 
poison  his  mind.  Siegfried  succumbs  to  three  considera- 
tions. First,  Golo  is  his  best  friend  and  a  brave  man.  "I 
may  not  know  the  other  sex,"  he  declares,  "but  I  do  know 
mine."  How  could  such  a  man  lie?  In  the  second  place, 
Golo  lies  with  the  greatest  plausibility,  meeting  each  ques- 
tion naturally  and  with  convincing  detail.  This  episode  is  a 
masterpiece  of  invention,  and  it  is  a  proof  of  the  sincerity  of 
Golo's  villainy,  as  well  as  of  the  energy  with  which  Hebbel 
seized  the  central  quality  of  his  character.  In  the  third 
place,  Siegfried  consults  a  magic  mirror  and,  ignorant  of 
its  owner's  share  in  the  plot,  finds  Golo's  report  confirmed  in 
the  most  striking  manner.  After  this  he  is  convinced.  As 
he  feared  the  parting,  so  he  lacks  courage  for  the  meeting 
again,  and  without  a  hearing  from  his  wife  he  turns  over  to 
Golo  his  sword  and  his  signet  ring,  at  once  the  authorization 
and  the  instrument  of  her  execution — an  act  that  outrages 
our  sensibilities  in  the  highest  degree. 

Thus  armed,  Golo  returns  to  the  castle  to  tempt  Geno- 
veva  again.  When  she  sees  the  signs  of  Siegfried's  faithless- 
ness she  exclaims :  "In  this  hour  my  misery  begins !"  Golo 
places  a  letter  in  her  hand,  a  full  confession  of  his  crimes, 
while  he  holds  a  cup  of  poisoned  wine,  which  he  offers  to 
drink  at  her  command.  Unable  to  gain  even  this  concession, 
he  sends  her  out  to  be  murdered,  but  she  is  allowed  to  escape 
with  her  child.  Golo  is  killed  by  Casper,  after  confessing 
his  sins,  blinding  himself,  and  requesting  to  be  exposed  to 
the  wild  animals  in  the  forest.  Siegfried  is  left  to  the  tor- 
menting doubt  of  his  wife's  guilt.  He  is  a  broken  man.  His 
terrible  experience — for  either  his  wife  or  his  friend  must 
have  been  false  to  him — has  given  him  a  glance  into  the 
innermost  depths  of  nature,  and  shown  him  the  ultimate 
isolation  and  loneliness  of  all  individual  life.  At  best  we 
can  never  know  and  understand  one  another.  These  conclu- 
sions of  Siegfried,  which  are  only  too  well  exemplified  in  the 


Genoveva  69 

tragedy  itself,  justify  us  in  regarding  the  work  as  deeply 
pessimistic.  It  is  true  that  for  Genoveva  herself  a  way  is 
found  out  of  this  pessimism,  as  she  gradually  transfers  her 
love  from  earthly  to  heavenly  objects. 

Eleven  years  later  Hebbel  composed  a  sequel  to  Genoveva, 
because  it  was  demanded  by  the  traditional  material.  Also 
he  had  planned  it  from  the  first,  perhaps,  for  a  certain 
scene  in  the  drama  points  forward  to  it.  Here  Genoveva  and 
her  son  are  restored  to  Siegfried.  But,  in  the  words  of  the 
Munich  analysis,  which  are  here  applicable,  he  finds  her 
again,  "only  to  gain  the  crushing  conviction  that  the  bond 
between  her  and  himself  is  torn  for  time  and  eternity.  For 
Genoveva  this  return  is  the  final  glorification.  Now  even 
her  picture  is  pure." 

Thus  we  have  the  three  main  characters  outlined  in  their 
human  relations  to  one  another :  Golo,  the  victim  of  distorted 
passion,  the  manifestations  of  which  cause  us  to  shudder  at 
the  abysses  of  our  common  human  nature;  Genoveva,  whose 
sufferings  proceed  from  her  refusal  to  sin,  and  from  her 
body's  beauty,  which  became  her  curse  (line  3087);  Sieg- 
fried, whose  lack  of  insight  leads  him  to  punish  the  good  and 
reward  the  bad.  And  yet  that  is  not  the  whole  of  the  trag- 
edy, though  it  would  seem  to  be  enough.  Indeed,  so  far,  we 
have  practically  omitted  to  mention  the  so-called  idea,  and  a 
fourth  character,  whom  Hebbel  did  not  consider  a  subordi- 
nate person  in  the  drama.  The  idea,  a  mystical  one,  was 
formulated  by  the  poet  as  the  atonement  of  evil  through  the 
suffering  of  saints.  The  world  is  represented  as  having 
reached  its  acme  of  sin.  Such  is  the  meaning  of  the  im- 
portant scene  in  which  the  aged  Jew  is  hounded  to  death  by 
the  servants  in  the  castle,  who  even  propose  to  crucify  him 
in  front  of  their  sacred  crucifix.  Golo  becomes  a  representa- 
tive of  this  evil  in  the  world.  And  especially  is  this  the  case 
with  Margarete,  the  sister  of  Golo's  foster-mother,  both  of 
whom  assist  him  in  his  plans.  Margarete  is  the  witch  whose 
magic  mirror  deceives  Siegfried.  In  that  scene  she  is  ex- 
panded into  a  representative  of  the  devil  on  earth,  her  char- 
acter, in  other  words,  is  intentionally  symbolized  by  the 
poet.    As  a  symbol  of  conquering  good,  the  spirit  of  Drago 


70  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

appears  in  the  same  scene,  and  we  are  told  that  the  measure 
of  sin  is  full,  that  Genoveva  remains  sinless  because  she  must 
help  atone  for  the  world  by  sacrifice,  and  that  she  will 
finally  triumph.  The  attempt  to  make  this  idea  support  the 
drama  is  a  failure,  as  the  poet  himself  admitted.  The  human 
characters  themselves  were  sufficient,  and  the  mystical  idea, 
while  it  may  be  both  in  itself  and  in  its  treatment  quite  in 
keeping  with  good  poetry,  is  not  in  keeping  with  the  tone  of 
the  tragedy.  Up  to  that  scene  Hebbel  works  with  psycho- 
logical means  and  his  sudden  leap  into  mysticism  seems  in- 
congruous. 

The  structure  of  Genoveva  as  a  drama  has  effectively 
kept  it  off  the  stage.  In  the  reverse  ratio  of  Judith,  it  con- 
tains three  fifths  conversation  and  two  fifths  action,  though 
so  related  that  action  closes  what  conversation  begins.  This 
would  not  be  decisive,  however.  The  main  trouble  is  that  the 
drama  comes  to  be  almost  a  monologue  for  the  exposition  of 
Golo's  part.  It  also  contains  a  good  many  epic  elements, 
especially  disturbing  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  act. 
One  of  the  chief  persons  is  not  introduced  until  the  third 
act,  which,  besides  that,  breaks  up  into  a  number  of  episodes. 
The  last  two  acts  are  likewise  too  long  and  slow  in  their 
movement.  Changes  of  scene  are  frequent.  In  fact,  Hebbel 
did  not  consider  the  stage  much  in  writing  this  work.  At 
the  beginning  of  his  career  he  seems  to  have  made  a  dan- 
gerous distinction,  which  he  soon  gave  up,  between  dramatic 
poetry  and  stage  plays.  As  Meszleny  points  out,  however, 
the  total  action  in  Genoveva  falls  into  three  larger  groups, 
which  might  well  be  arranged  as  three  one-act  performances : 
Acts  I  and  II,  Act  III,  and  Acts  IV  and  V.  Each  of  these 
groups  observes  unity  of  time,  if  not  of  place,  already. 

Even  a  brief  summary  of  Genoveva  should  not  fail  to 
comment  on  the  care  with  which  Hebbel  has  worked  out  the 
subordinate  parts — the  servants  in  the  castle,  and  particu- 
larly the  character  of  Crazy  Claus.  Just  as  in  Judith  he 
presented  a  dumb  man  half  inspired,  so  here  he  has  made  an 
unconscious  representative  of  a  higher  power.  Such  persons 
cut  off  from  worldly  wisdom  are,  such  seems  to  be  the  idea, 
like  children,  in  immediate  contact  with  the  sources  of  life. 


Genoveva  71 

Through  them,  as  through  a  medium,  it  flows  at  times  with 
irresistible,  impetuous  force,  like  the  inspiration  of  the  poet. 
In  Crazy  Claus  Hebbel  conceived  a  striking  part  and  exe- 
cuted it  well.  In  all  the  servant  scenes,  and  particularly  in 
the  episode  with  the  Jew,  he  shows  great  powers  of  indi- 
vidualizing. And  again,  as  in  Judith,  he  knows  how  to  sur- 
round us  with  the  subtle  atmosphere  of  what  he  calls  a 
"poetic  time."  We  are  in  a  lonely  castle,  in  the  midst  of  an 
endless  forest,  separated  by  days  and  weeks  from  other 
human  habitation.  This  isolation  doubly  inflames  Golo's 
passion,  and  places  Genoveva  completely  at  his  mercy.  And 
as  it  is  reflected  in  the  main  situation,  so  it  is  reflected  in  the 
conversation  of  the  servants,  and  in  the  smaller  episodes. 

When  Hebbel  sent  Genoveva  to  Madam  Stich-Crelinger 
in  Berlin  for  consideration,  it  was  returned,  ostensibly  be- 
cause a  drama  on  the  same  theme  by  Raupach  was  already 
in  the  repertoire.  Raupach  was  one  of  those  popular  play- 
makers  necessary  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  modern  stage. 
As  successor  to  Kotzebue,  he  was  the  chief  support  of  the 
German  theater  from  1821  to  about  1841.  In  the  seven 
years  between  1829  and  1835,  he  produced  thirty-nine  new 
plays.  A  poet  like  Hebbel  could  not  compete  with  a 
Raupach.  Genoveva  was  first  given  in  Prague,  in  transla- 
tion, May,  1849. x  It  was  not  given  in  Germany  until  long 
after  that,  and  has  never  been  a  great  success  on  the  stage. 
It  was  published  by  Hoffmann  and  Campe,  bearing  the  date 
1843. 


1  Br.  V,  p.  364,  Note. 


CHAPTER  V 

A  COMEDY  AND  A  BOOK  OF  VERSE 

H  EBB  EL  finished  Genoveva  in  March,  and  by  November 
of  the  same  year  (184»1),  he  completed  a  third  drama, 
The  Diamond,  which  he  had,  however,  begun  several  years 
earlier.  He  provided  this  work,  a  comedy,  with  a  prologue 
in  verse,  setting  forth  his  views  on  that  form  of  the  drama, 
and  sent  it  to  Berlin  to  compete  for  a  prize  that  was  being 
offered.  He  failed  to  win  this,  if  for  no  other  reason  be- 
cause his  comedy  was  of  an  entirely  different  nature  from 
those  that  fell  within  the  limit  of  the  contest.  The  Diamond, 
which  the  poet  immediately  declared  to  be  his  best  work,  re- 
ceived no  favor  at  the  hands  of  any  stage  director,  and  was 
not  published  by  Campe  until  1847. 

Hebbel  demanded  that  comedy  symbolize  the  world  to 
the  same  extent  as  tragedy,  only  in  a  different  way.  Both 
are  the  same  coin,  though  each  side  presents  a  separate  face. 
In  The  Diamond  he  sets  out  to  give  us,  in  comic  mask,  an 
image  of  life.  Freely  translated,  certain  verses  of  the  Pro- 
logue read  as  follows:  "In  the  jewel  I  see  the  vain  show  of 
earthly  life,  and  all  the  emptiness  of  earth  represented  in 
comic  guise."  Then  he  vaguely  outlines  the  story,  which 
here  may  be  given  a  little  more  definitely. 

In  accordance  with  the  custom  of  the  royal  house,  a 
certain  princess  is  intrusted  with  a  precious  diamond.  As 
far  back  as  the  time  of  Barbarossa,  so  ran  the  legendary 
account,  this  jewel  had  been  given  to  the  founder  of  the 
family  by  a  spirit  in  the  shape  of  a  maimed  soldier.  It  was  a 
talisman,  which  the  same  apparition  would  demand  again 
when  the  family  was  doomed  to  extinction.  The  Princess, 
who  is  excessively  nervous — "rather  tender,"  the  Prologue 
says — is  approached  by  a  real  maimed  soldier,  a  man  of 
huge  stature,  and  also  of  ghostly  appearance  because  he  is 
on  the  verge  of  starvation.     Terrified,  she  throws  the  dia- 

78 


A  Comedy  and  a  Book  of  Verse  73 

mond  at  his  feet  and,  returning  to  the  palace,  falls  a  prey 
to  a  dangerous  nervous  illness,  bordering  on  insanity.  Her 
plrysieians  declare  the  finding  of  the  diamond  to  be  essential 
to  her  recovery,  and  the  King  sends  out  proclamations  of  a 
large  reward  to  any  one  who  will  return  it.  A  young  Prince, 
who  is  to  marry  the  Princess,  takes  part  in  the  search. 

In  the  meantime  the  soldier  has  died  in  the  house  of  a 
peasant,  who  thus  comes  into  the  possession  of  the  diamond, 
though  he  has  no  idea  of  its  value.  His  suspicions  are 
aroused,  however,  when  a  peddling  Jew  offers  him  a  dollar 
for  it,  and  he  refuses  to  bargain  at  all.  The  Jew,  therefore, 
steals  the  diamond,  which  he  swallows  under  close  pursuit, 
in  order  not  to  have  it  found  on  his  person.  He  has  thus 
enormously  increased  his  personal  value.  And  thus,  too,  is 
brought  about  that  situation  that  'Taillandier  ironically 
terms  la  delicate  invention:  un  mal  d'entrailles  en  cinq  actes!1 
The  Jew  falls  into  the  hands  of  a  quack  doctor;  the  Jew, 
the  peasant,  the  doctor  are  all  brought  before  a  judge.  The 
three  vote  for  an  operation,  but  they  are  all  in  turn  cheated 
by  the  bailiff,  who  wants  the  diamond  for  himself.  The 
diamond  is  finally  restored  to  the  royal  family,  and  the 
Princess  is  healed,  but  not  before  each  person  is  charac- 
terized by  his  attitude  to  the  possession  of  property.  As  the 
only  honest  man  of  them  all,  the  peasant  receives  the  prom- 
ised reward. 

This  brief  outline,  however,  is  in  one  sense  misleading. 
Of  the  two  elements  making  up  the  play — the  naive  comedy 
of  the  lower  classes,  and  a  more  poetic  and  fantastic  back- 
ground— the  former  is  by  far  the  more  important  and  suc- 
cessful. The  comedy  opens,  in  fact,  with  a  scene  in  the 
peasant's  hut.  In  characterizing  the  lower  classes  Hebbel 
was  much  more  at  home  than  in  the  serious  parts  of  the 
work.  His  experiences  in  the  office  in  Wesselburen  furnished 
him  the  colors  he  needed  when  he  came  to  portray  these 
various  types,  which  stand  out  with  the  distinctness  of  a 
Dutch  painting.  And  in  them  the  poet  exemplifies  with 
great  skill  his  favorite  view,  that  in  comedy  the  characters 


1  ti 


1  Revue  de  deux  mondes,  1852,  Vol.  IV,  p.  543. 


74  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

themselves  must  be  entirely  in  earnest,  entirely  unconscious 
of  the  futile  nature  of  their  doings.  Only  the  spectator  must 
be  amused.  In  this  respect  the  work  is  eminently  successful. 
The  peasant  Jacob,  in  his  stolid,  stupid,  good-natured 
honesty ;  Doctor  Pf eff er,  in  his  inventive  quackery  and  ready 
shamelessness ;  Block,  in  his  unsurpassable  willingness  to  be 
duped ;  Kilian,  in  his  general  inability  to  cope  with  the  situa- 
tion; Benjamin,  the  Jew,  in  his  cunning,  frustrated  by  its 
own  refinement — such  persons  are  not  to  be  found  outside 
the  works  of  real  poets.  And  among  these  worthy  people 
some  amusing  scenes  occur,  as  when  Doctor  Pfeffer  en- 
deavors to  convince  the  judge  that  Jacob  is  so  honest  he 
could  not  lie  if  he  wanted  to,  while  Jacob,  too  honest  to 
accept  such  a  character,  argues  that  he  could  lie  if  he 
wanted  to. 

In  spite  of  its  excellent  qualities,  however,  The  Diamond 
was  not  a  success  on  the  stage.  As  pointed  out  by  both 
Kuh  and  Werner,  it  has  a  twofold  weakness.  In  the  first 
place  its  humor,  while  genuine,  is  somewhat  monotonous. 
And,  in  the  second  place,  the  work  falls  into  two  parts 
which  are  poorly  connected.  Nor  are  the  serious  parts, 
considered  alone,  convincingly  worked  out.  The  poet  him- 
self recognized  this  fact,  and  even  found  fault  with  the  comic 
scenes  for  wavering  between  simplicity  and  satire.  But  he 
always  maintained  that  the  idea  underlying  this  comedy  was 
an  excellent  one,  and  to  the  last  he  planned  a  reconstruction 
of  it.    The  new  version,  however,  was  never  made.2 

Hebbel's  letters  and  diary  during  the  second  Hamburg 
period  indicate  the  same  restlessness  of  mind  as  that  which 
had  characterized  him  hitherto — a  swinging  from  one  ex- 
treme mood  to  another,  in  one  moment  the  exuberance  of 
creative  power,  in  the  next  the  gloom  of  complete  despair. 
He  kept  up  his  continual  reading,  especially  on  the  drama 
and  its  problems — Lessing,  Euripides,  Plato.  Other  dra- 
matic plans  thronged  his  mind :  a  Moloch,  which  he  intended 
to  erect  as  his  chief  monument;  a  Clara,  later  published  as 

2  The  Diamond  has  been  given  several  times  in  recent  years  with 
some  success.  See  Biihne  und  Welt,  X.  Jahrgang,  1907-08,  S.  830;  XI. 
Jahrgang,  1908-9,  S.  473. 


A  Comedy  and  a  Booh  of  Verse  75 

Mary  Magdalene;  and  an  Achilles.  Though  none  of  these 
works  was  written  at  the  time,  he  realized  in  the  summer  of 
1842  his  long-cherished  plan  of  publishing  a  collection  of 
his  lyric  poems.  Again  it  was  Campe  who  made  the  venture 
for  him.  The  little  volume,  containing  somewhat  more  than 
one  hundred  and  fifty  poems,  was  dedicated  to  the  memory 
of  Hebbel's  Munich  friend,  Emil  Rousseau. 

By  examining  this  collection  more  carefully  and  by  oc- 
casional reference  to  later  poems,  we  may  seek  to  gain  some 
notion  of  Hebbel  as  a  lyric  poet.  In  this  field,  as  well  as 
in  the  drama,  he  had  high  aspirations  and  very  definite 
ideas.  Here  too,  perhaps,  he  considered  his  work  something 
of  an  innovation.  Certainly  so  if,  among  other  indications, 
we  may  accept  as  orthodox  the  view  of  a  faithful  disciple, 
Emil  Kuh.  After  defending  Hebbel  against  the  often  re- 
peated charge  of  too  much  reflection  in  his  lyric  poetry,  he 
asserts  that  this  is  due  to  the  development  of  the  type,  which 
had  outgrown  pure  melody  and  come  to  embrace  more  subtly 
differentiated  and  contradictory  emotional  shades.  Heine 
is  said  to  exemplify  this  new  type  to  some  extent,  and  Hebbel 
even  better.  We  shall  see,  in  fact,  that  Hebbel  does  attempt 
to  give  expression  to  what  might  be  called  his  metaphysical 
woes.     Sometimes  successfully,  sometimes  not. 

The  majority  of  the  poems  in  the  collection  of  1842  had 
been  written  before  the  second  Hamburg  period.  Of  those 
written  during  that  period  the  best,  taken  as  a  whole,  are 
what  might  be  termed  thought-poems,  treating  of  such  sub- 
jects as  the  purpose  of  pain  in  life,  the  spirit  of  the  times, 
the  function  of  the  poet,  man  and  woman,  human  society. 
A  great  many  of  them  are  sonnets,  a  form  preferred  by 
Hebbel  for  serious  content.  In  discussing  these  thought- 
poems  it  does  not  seem  necessary  to  attempt  to  deduce  a 
philosophical  system  from  them ;  still  less  to  regard  them  as 
the  expression  of  such  a  system.  They  are  more  or  less  emo- 
tional; they  shift  from  one  point  of  view  to  another.  Ex- 
tensive interpretations  in  this  sense  have  been  undertaken  for 
his  early  poems.  Dr.  Paul  Zincke  has  given  a  plausible  out- 
line of  Hebbel's  progress  in  thought  as  reflected  in  his  verse 
from  Wesselburen  to  Heidelberg.     According  to  this  sum- 


76  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

mary,  Hebbel  began  with  the  Christian  view  of  life,  then 
came  under  Schiller's  materialistic  youthful  poetry,  at- 
tempted a  fusion  of  these  two  principles,  and  passed  over 
gradually  to  a  naive  pantheism,  a  transition  that  is  complete 
in  the  Heidelberg  poems.  The  influence  of  any  particular 
philosophy  up  to  this  time  is  more  than  doubtful.  This  is  as 
far  as  it  is  safe  to  go  in  interpreting  Hebbel's  lyric  poetry, 
whether  early  or  late.  A  much  more  comprehensive  treat- 
ment of  the  subject  is  given  by  Arno  Scheunert.  Scheunert 
admits  to  his  discussion  more  of  Hebbel's  varied  and  peculiar 
expressions  than  any  one  else.  Hebbel  was  intensely  inter- 
ested in  his  own  psychology,  because  he  supposed  that  he 
could  observe  that  with  certainty.  He  committed  the  most 
remarkable  reflections  to  his  Diary,  a  r 'ally  monumental 
work.  He  put  down  the  truest  statements,  as  well  as  those 
that  seem  eccentric,  fantastic,  or  absurd.  Speculations  on 
the  sensation  of  stones  and  plants,  on  the  possible  evolution 
of  the  lower  form  to  the  higher — inanimate  forms,  nature, 
man,  God — on  the  transmigration  of  the  soul,  on  the  sym- 
bolic meaning  of  wine  or  gold,  on  dreams,  on  animal  psy- 
chology, on  a  thousand  subjects,  are  to  be  found  there: 
passing  whims  and  fancies,  side  by  side  with  the  most  pro- 
found observations.  Often  he  made  some  such  fantastic  idea 
the  basis  of  a  poem,  usually  unsuccessful.  We  are  struck 
particularly  with  a  Novalis-like  tendency,  at  times,  to  draw 
no  practical  distinction  between  mind  and  matter,  the  mani- 
festations of  which  are  directly  related  as  cause  and  effect. 
Scheunert  discovers  in  all  of  Hebbel's  work  a  definite  meta- 
physical center,  of  which  that  work  is  the  symbol.  He  is 
able  to  present  many  surprising  interpretations  of  notes, 
poems,  etc.,  to  uphold  this  view.  He  has  even  established 
to  his  own  satisfaction  that  Hebbel's  language  is  altogether 
symbolical,  that  his  words  mean  more  than  they  seem  to 
mean.  When  the  poet  speaks  of  Heaven,  Paradise,  the  In- 
finite, immortality,  the  morning-red,  gold,  light,  flower,  rose, 
spirit,  sun,  he  means  a  metaphysical  abstraction ;  and  he 
means  the  opposite  abstraction,  if  he  should  speak  of  hell, 
devil,  earth,  dust,  darkness,  storm,  etc.  All  natural  hap- 
penings, however  innocent  they  may  appear,  acquire  a  moral 


A  Comedy  and  a  Book  of  Verse  77 

significance.  According  to  Scheunert,  Hebbel  may  be  read 
in  two  ways :  naively,  that  is,  without  understanding  what 
he  means  to  say ;  and  pantragically,  or  with  an  insight  into 
his  metaphysics.  Birds,  butterflies,  squirrels,  are  all  moral 
creatures ;  snakes,  on  the  other  hand,  immoral.  The  measure 
of  the  impulse  of  anything,  organic  or  inorganic,  toward  a 
higher  degree  of  union  with  the  Ideal,  is  the  measure  of  its 
morality.  The  subjective  caprice  of  the  poet,  which  he, 
however,  mistakes  for  an  objective  test,  is  the  judge  in  this 
matter.  "Red"  is  the  color  of  life ;  "black,"  that  of  destruc- 
tion; honey  and  wine  become  noble  concentrations  of  the 
Natur-Geist;  love  is  self-consciousness  of  the  Ideal;  odor 
signifies  longing,  sacrifice,  gratitude;  white,  the  color  of 
spirits,  means  "ethereal"  or  "immortal." 

It  would  seem  plain,  though  Scheunert  does  not  expressly 
draw  such  an  inference,  that  if  we  must  read  Hebbel's  poetry 
with  a  metaphysical  glossary  we  had  as  well  let  his  poetry 
alone,  as  far  as  esthetic  enjoyment  goes.  But  the  case  is 
really  not  so  bad  as  that.  Admitting  that  many  of  his 
poems  are  in  the  same  category  as  his  dedication  to  Mary 
Magdalene,  i.  e.,  according  to  his  own  opinion,  metaphysical 
and  therefore  bad;  admitting  all  that  Scheunert  says  quite 
truly  about  the  apotheosis  of  a  pet  squirrel,  and  admitting 
in  general  the  danger  of  Hebbel's  speculative  moods  for  his 
poetry,  we  find  still  remaining  a  number  of  poems  in  his  col- 
lections that  can  be  read  with  great  enjoyment,  naively,  like 
any  other  poems.  We  do  not  need,  as  Scheunert  does,  to 
interpret  a  beautiful  poem  like  the  Sommerbild  pantragi- 
cally. When  Hebbel  speaks  of  the  white  and  the  red  rose, 
we  are  not  driven  to  say  that  white  butterflies  are  the  least 
poetic,  the  most  ordinary,  and  that  therefore  the  poet  must 
have  used  white  here  to  signify  a  greeting  from  the  spirit 
world.  (See  Op.  cit.,  p.  173,  and  note.)  We  have  our  naive 
pleasure  in  the  contrasted  colors  and  are  satisfied. 

With  these  necessary  explanations,  we  may  proceed  to 
consider  the  collection  of  1842.  More  than  most  poets 
Hebbel  wrote  sub  specie  ceternitatis.  Among  his  chief  traits, 
it  can  not  be  too  often  repeated,  was  a  vivid  sense  of  the  Uni- 
versal, accompanied  by  a  proportionate  sense  of  the  fleeting 


MM 


78  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

character  of  individual  life.  For  most  of  us  the  Universal 
remains  largely  an  abstraction,  a  mere  word.  It  was  more 
than  that  to  Hebbel.  To  him  it  was  an  ever-present,  living 
power — the  spirit  in  poetry,  the  state  in  politics,  custom  in 
society,  and  a  reality  as  far  as  sense  or  thought  can  reach. 
His  seizure  of  this  reality  is  reflected  not  mainly  by  thought, 
which  would  have  made  him  a  philosopher,  but  by  emotion, 
which  made  him  a  poet.  In  his  wildest  joy  he  knows  that 
death  is  but  two  paces  behind.  Or  he  portrays  the  transi- 
tion from  youth  to  age  in  a  lovely  girl,  so  that  we  view  life 
as  a  tale  that  is  told.  The  late  summer  rose,  in  its  full 
bloom,  suggests  to  him  with  a  cosmic  shudder,  that  "so  far 
in  life  is  too  near  death."  A  moonlight  night  in  Rome  calls 
up  three  stages  of  evanescent  life:  Rome's  soldiers,  who  lay 
dead  on  the  battlefield  beneath  that  moon;  Rome  herself  in 
ruins,  a  shadow  of  her  former  might ;  and  both  pictures  but  a 
symbol  of  how  worlds  shall  pass  away.  And  in  this  whirl  of 
fleeting  individual  existence  the  poet  himself  is  caught.  Even 
when  he  can  forget  his  own  ego  long  enough  to  proclaim  the 
vision  he  has  seen,  he  feels  that  he  is  the  voice  of  one  crying  in 
the  wilderness.  He  compares  himself  to  a  tree  in  a  desert: 
the  fruit  is  ripe,  but  there  is  no  one  to  taste  it.  And  the 
very  creative  joy,  which  like  the  breath  of  God,  flashes 
through  him,  shows  him  in  passing  that  he  is  "doubly  dust." 
It  is  therefore  not  surprising  that  he  occasionally  looks  out 
with  longing  eyes  into  the  calm  ocean  of  the  Universal,  into 
Nirvana,  to  pray:  "Sleep,  sleep,  only  sleep!  No  awaking 
and  no  dream!" 

But  this  is  only  a  part  of  the  picture.  Hebbel  was  a 
fighter.  Especially  in  many  of  the  Hamburg  poems  of  the 
second  period  there  is  the  spirit  of  battle,  of  defiance,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  the  comprehension  of  the  functions  of  pain 
and  suffering  in  human  life.  He  did  not  seek  peace  by  turn- 
ing his  back  on  the  problem  of  life  as  he  saw  it,  the  baffling 
problem  of  grounding  individual  being  on  some  eternal  rock. 
In  the  two  sonnets,  Mystery  and  Ether,  he  expresses  his 
yearning  to  discover  the  thread  that  binds  him  to  God  and 
nature,  so  that  he  may  follow  it  back  to  its  source.  But  at 
the  same  time  he  is  convinced  that  this  is  not  in  human  power. 


A  Comedy  and  a  Book  of  Verse  79 

In  another,  entitled  The  World  and  7,  he  finds  that  para- 
doxical synthesis  so  characteristic  of  all  his  works — the 
idea  that  we  best  find  ourselves  by  losing  ourselves.  "The 
road  to  thee  leads  through  the  Universe."  Here  is  a  dis- 
tinction between  egotism  and  individuality,  or  inner  har- 
mony. There  is  a  way  of  serving  "best  both  yourself  and 
the  highest  plan."  What  this  "highest  plan"  is  perplexed 
his  brain  no  little.  Sometimes  he  sees  an  ultimate  unity  in 
all  things,  at  other  times  a  dualism,  a  struggle  between  light 
and  darkness,  resembling  that  between  Ormuzd  and  Ahriman. 
But  man  must  not  despair.  Pain  is  an  element  of  life  itself. 
"All  life  is  robbery.  Sparks  that  have  sprung  from  the 
stars  burn  to  illuminate  the  world,  and  dust  swallows  them 
up.  Now  begins  a  sacred  warfare!  In  all  forms  surge 
highest  and  lowest  powers.  Struggle,  and  the  victory  will 
be  yours."  Perfect  victory  would  thus  mean  an  end  of  indi- 
vidual life,  a  reunion  with  the  source  of  light.  Such  baffling 
problems  does  Hebbel  press  into  his  verse! 

With  equal  intensity  was  he  concerned  with  his  own  mis- 
sion. The  Romanticists,  even  the  earlier  Schelling,  did  not 
more  completely  apotheosize  the  poet  than  did  Hebbel. 
"Art,"  he  writes  in  his  Diary,  Feb.  20,  1842,  "is  the  con- 
science of  mankind."  And  he  considered  the  poet  to  be  the 
high-priest  of  art.  The  poet  is  the  "chaste  priest  at  the 
altar  of  life."  To  him  the  keys  of  the  universe  are  given,  so 
that  he  may  open  any  gate  and  wander  where  he  will.  What 
he  sa}rs  in  his  hours  of  inspiration  is  the  soul  of  the  world 
manifesting  itself  through  him.  He  is  the  Proteus  of  the 
spirit,  equally  at  home  in  all  forms,  but  bound  in  none.  His 
function  is  to  interpret  life,  to  give  men  a  fuller  conscious- 
ness of  the  life-process,  and  thereby  help  them  attain  the 
utmost  harmony  of  spirit  possible  within  its  limits.  This 
view  of  the  poet  is  abundantly  expressed  in  the  collection  of 
1842.  Hebbel  exercises  his  priest-like  task  in  fine  verses 
entitled  To  Young  Men.  Here  he  speaks  like  the  impas- 
sioned prophet  of  the  soul,  not  imparting  worldly  wisdom, 
but  indicating  the  pathway  to  a  deeper  life.  To  the  youth 
he  says :  Be  your  own  creator !  Make  yourself  the  master 
of  your  fate !    Pray,  but  pray  only  to  the  spirit  within  your-  | 


80  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

selves.  "Life  is  deep  solitude.  Not  a  drop  of  dew  forces 
itself  into  the  stubborn  bud,  until  its  own  inner  fire  bursts 
it."  God  loves  man  erect,  not  in  the  dust.  Out  of  his  own 
dark  breast  man  makes  his  heaven  of  stars. 

The  high  valuation  here  placed  upon  man  and  man's 
struggles  finds  different,  and  even  better  expression,  in  a 
poem  entitled  The  Chief  Commandment.  This  poem  is  in 
three  stanzas  of  four  lines  each,  the  first  line  in  every  case 
being  the  same,  so  that  the  commandment,  which  is  embodied 
in  it,  is  repeated  three  times  as  a  beginning  refrain.  This 
arrangement,  for  which  Hebbel  shows  fondness  elsewhere  as 
well,  is  particularly  effective  here  because  of  the  insistence 
lent  by  it  to  the  precept  he  is  giving.  The  poem,  which  is 
among  his  best,  may  be  paraphrased  as  follows:  Respect 
man!  And  remember  that,  however  concealed  it  may  be, 
there  is  in  him  the  germ  of  all  great  things,  some  day  to  be 
unfolded.  Respect  man!  And  remember  that,  no  matter 
how  deep  his  slumber,  the  breath  of  life  that  can  awaken 
him  may  come  perhaps  from  you.  Respect  man !  Eternity 
has  an  hour  in  which  each  soul  will  either  heal  your  wounds 
or  still  your  yearnings. 

The  collection,  however,  is  not  all  in  one  severe  tone. 
It  contains  some  of  the  poet's  best  ballads:  Fair  Hedwig, 
which  he  later  recognized  as  an  unconscious  reflex  of  Kleist's 
Katie  of  Heilbronn;  The  Lord's  Prayer,  in  which  a  robber 
patricide  is  killed  by  his  own  son ;  The  Child  at  the  Well,  in 
danger  of  falling  in  while  the  nurse  is  asleep.  In  the  ballad 
he  strove  for  movement,  terseness,  climax,  dramatic  effect. 
In  the  subjects  he  satisfied  the  romantic  elements  of  his 
nature,  which  had  considerable  nourishment  in  his  early 
reading,  while  in  the  form  his  epic  talent,  with  its  tendency 
toward  the  highest  precision,  was  seen  to  the  best  advantage. 

Hebbel  wrote  comparatively  few  poems  purely  inspired 
by  nature.  He  did  not  revel  in  it  pantheistically,  like 
Goethe,  nor  commune  with  it  intimately,  like  Morike,  and 
rarely  could  he  use  it  skillfully,  like  Heine,  as  a  symbol  of 
love.  A  poem  like  the  Winter  Landscape,  which  is  content 
with  merely  giving  the  impression  of  a  desolate  scene,  is 
excellent  of  its  kind,  but  almost  unique  in  his  production. 


A  Comedy  and  a  Book  of  Verse  81 

The  aspect  of  nature  that  appealed  to  him  most  strongly 
was  the  night,  and  that  in  a  more  awe-inspiring  than  sooth- 
ing fashion.  The  peculiar  sonnet,  Hyperion  (Der  Sonnen- 
j tingling),  in  which  the  sun-youth  is  astonished  to  find  the 
earth  grow  beautiful  beneath  his  glances,  ignorant  that  these 
cause  the  change — this  sonnet  can  hardly  be  classed  as  a 
nature  poem.  Its  idea  is  somewhat  fantastic,  in  which  direc- 
tion Hebbel  often  inclined,  but  it  appeals  to  us  none  the 
less,  like  some  haunting  myth. 

Hebbel  also  wrote  few  preeminent  love  poems.  There 
was  in  this  collection  a  cycle  entitled  Early  Love,  which 
treated  of  love  from  the  standpoint  of  a  youth,  in  somewhat 
the  same  way  as  Chamisso's  cycle  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  girl.  The  beginning  of  love,  its  blossoming,  its  pathetic 
loss  through  death,  and  a  closing  reconciliation  to  loss — 
such  are  the  general  stages  of  emotion  presented.  Hebbel's 
best  love  poem,  To  Hedwig,  has  already  been  mentioned. 
Another  fine  one,  which  he  himself  valued  highly,  is  The  Last 
Glass,  celebrating  the  moment  of  separation.  Here  again 
the  stanzas  begin  alike,  and  end  with  a  refrain.  Hebbel  lacks 
the  lightness  of  touch  characteristic  of  Heine  or  Morike. 
The  Anacreontic  was  out  of  his  sphere,  his  various  attempts 
in  that  direction  being  failures.  For  this  his  passion  is  too 
intense,  his  rhythm  too  obtrusive,  his  choice  of  words  too 
rhetorical,  the  whole  movement  of  his  mind  too  mighty.  So 
when,  for  example,  in  the  little  poem,  Rose  and  Lily,  he  tries 
the  kind  of  thing  Heine  did  so  well  in  The  Fir  and  the 
Palm,  he  fails  utterly.  While  Heine  is  careful  to  indicate 
no  closer  association  between  fir  and  palm  than  the  vague- 
ness of  a  dream,  Hebbel  has  the  lily  embrace  the  rose  leaf, 
and  this  physical  touch  breaks  the  poetic  spell.  It  would  be 
easy  to  point  out  many  instances  where  his  associations 
seemed  forced. 

Other  phases  of  life  besides  love  appealed  to  Hebbel,  of 
course.  He  knew  how  to  write  sympathetic  and  tender 
verses  To  an  Old  Maid,  to  describe  the  feelings  of  a  young 
girl  when  she  first  becomes  conscious  of  her  beauty,  and 
blushes  with  shame  at  this  discovery ;  to  picture  the  pain  of 
a  young  mother  upon  the  death  of  her  child,  and  the  for- 


82  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

sakenness  of  the  child  bereft  of  its  mother.  In  this  last 
named  poem,  The  Child,  is  the  nameless  pathos  of  an  irrep- 
arable but  unsensed  loss.  The  impression  is  the  same  as 
that  produced  on  us  by  Klinger's  etching,  Mother  and 
Death.  In  both  works  we  see  the  dead  mother  and  the  ques- 
tioning child,  eyes  and  voice  filled  with  wonderment,  touching 
in  its  unconsciousness,  while  from  beyond  this  scene  come  to 
us  faint  suggestions  of  the  surrounding  world,  into  which  it 
must  now  launch  forth  alone. 

In  the  matter  of  lyric  form,  finally,  Hebbel  was  no  inno- 
vator, just  as  he  was  not,  broadly  speaking,  in  the  use  of 
language,  or  in  dramatic  technique.  In  these  phases  of  his 
art  he  was  more  or  less  conservative.  He  was  through  and 
through  an  esthetic  nature,  though  his  form-talent  was 
difficult  to  develop.  The  harmony  of  his  art  he  characterized 
as  a  harmony  won  from  dissonance,  as  good  a  brief  state- 
ment of  the  case  as  can  be  found.  He  was  not  always  certain 
in  discriminating  between  poetic  and  unpoetic  subjects,  nor 
in  realizing  when  he  had  failed  to  convert  the  dissonance  of 
his  elements  into  harmony.  This  difficulty  was  often  in- 
creased by  his  method  of  work.  Many  of  his  poems  are  the 
expansion  of  some  experience,  or  even  of  some  philosophic 
speculation,  noted  down  in  prose  form  in  his  Diary  at  a 
previous  time.  Sometimes  he  wrote  good  poetry  in  this  way, 
but  more  often  the  immediate  inspiration  was  hopelessly 
sacrificed.  A  good  example  of  this  procedure  is  found  in 
the  sonnet  entitled  Man  and  History.  On  July  27,  1840,  he 
noted  in  his  Diary  a  rather  fanciful  idea  about  the  evolution, 
or  gradual  perfecting  of  a  god.  In  September,  1841,  he 
composed  a  sonnet  on  this  theme:  History  is  the  unknown 
artist,  and  man,  the  future  god.  But  there  is  nothing  more 
memorable  in  the  second  form  than  in  the  first. 

Hebbel  now  stood  before  the  world  as  the  author  of  three 
larger  works :  Judith,  Genoveva,  and  a  volume  of  poems.  As 
yet  The  Diamond  was  unknown  to  the  public.  In  the  Tele- 
graph (December,  1842)  Gutzkow  wrote  a  short  review  of 
Genoveva,  commenting  on  its  beauties  of  language,  origi- 
nality of  conception,  and  the  sharpness  of  characterization 
in  the  servant  scenes,  but  calling  attention  to  such  defects  as 


A  Comedy  and  a  Book  of  Verse  83 

the  role  of  Margarete  and  her  mirror,  the  too  great  prom- 
inence of  Golo,  and  the  general  violence  in  the  action.  He 
condemned  the  play  as  a  whole  for  lack  of  proportion,  and 
described  Hebbel's  purpose  as  that  of  showing  the  lovable- 
ness  of  evil — an  interpretation  that  exasperated  the  poet 
beyond  measure.  Hebbel  remarked  that,  if  such  had  been 
his  purpose,  he  should  be  beheaded.  Eduard  Duller  also 
wrote  a  highly  complimentary  estimate  of  Hebbel  in  his 
paper,  while  the  poems  were  very  favorably  reviewed  by 
Wilibald  Alexis,  in  January,  1843.  Thus  by  the  close  of 
1842  Hebbel  had  definitely  entered  the  literary  arena. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  WIDENING  SPHERE:  COPENHAGEN,   PAEIS,   A  MIDDLE-CLASS 

TRAGEDY 

*  I  ^HE  Dervish  says  that  life  is  a  journey.  He  might 
«■>  have  said  that  journeying  is  life."  These  words  of 
Hebbel  expressed  his  longing  for  a  wider  acquaintance  with 
the  world.  In  reading  Byron's  works,  he  envied  the  English 
poet  his  freedom  of  movement.  He  could  not  endure  the 
thought  of  spending  his  days  in  Hamburg,  a  city  he  never 
liked,  in  a  continual  struggle  for  a  bare  existence.  In  spite 
of  the  urging  of  his  publisher,  the  shrewd  Campe,  that  he  be 
less  abrupt  and  form  more  literary  connections,  and  in  spite 
of  his  own  desire  to  do  so,  he  remained  alone.  He  had 
definitely  broken  off  his  relation  with  Amalia  Schoppe  soon 
after  the  completion  of  Judith.  His  so-called  Memorial  to 
her  is  one  of  the  sharpest  documents  that  he  ever  wrote,  and 
it  can  be  explained  only  by  the  severe  provocations  to  which 
their  relation,  for  the  time  at  least  no  longer  tenable,  had 
subjected  him.  Finally,  when  in  May,  1842,  a  large  part 
of  Hamburg  burned  down,  Hebbel  found  no  further  attrac- 
tion there.  As  sensitive  as  he  was  on  the  score  of  Elise 
Lensing's  good  name,  he  could  not  resolve  to  marry  her.  He 
persuaded  himself  that  he  could  best  serve  the  interests  of 
mother  and  child  by  seeking  to  establish  his  own  existence 
more  firmly.  With  this  object  in  view  he  turned  his  eyes  to 
Copenhagen. 

Schleswig-Holstein  was  at  that  time  a  Danish  province, 
and  Hebbel  a  Danish  subject.  The  kings  of  Denmark  had 
more  than  once  favored  German  men  of  letters,  and  this  gave 
Hebbel  double  reason  for  hope.  Christian  VIII.  had  come  to 
the  throne  in  1839,  and  at  that  time  Hebbel  had  applied  to 
the  influential  Danish  poet,  Adam  Oehlenschlager,  with  the 
purpose  of  securing  one  of  the  academic  degrees  that  he  had 
supposed  would  fbe  bestowed  on  such  an  occasion.     He  de- 

84 


The  Widening  Sphere  85 

sired  the  degree  of  doctor  of  philosophy  and,  as  an  ultimate 
goal,  a  professorship  of  literature  in  the  University  of  Kiel. 
To  the  title  of  "doctor"  he  attached  great  weight,  as  a  title. 
When  he  wished  to  make  a  particular,  impression  on  his  cor- 
respondent, he  already  signed  his  name  as  Dr.  Friedrich 
Hebbel,  as  in  letters  to  his  old  friend,  Voss,  in  Wesselburen, 
or  to  Hauff,  editor  of  the  Morgenblatt.  And  even  ten  years 
later,  in  a  skech  of  his  life  for  Brockhaus,  he  upheld  the  fic- 
tion of  his  "graduation"  in  Munich,  and  that  at  a  time  when 
he  had  actually  received  the  title  of  "doctor"  from  Erlangen. 

Nothing  had  come  of  his  first  petition,  as  no  degrees 
were  bestowed.  But  Hebbel  did  not  give  up  his  idea  of  a 
professorship.  He  now  stood  before  the  world  in  a  different 
position  from  that  of  two  years  before,  and  he  determined 
to  visit  Copenhagen  in  order  to  interview  the  King  in  person. 
As  usual,  one  thing  was  lacking — money.  In  September, 
1842,  Rousseau's  father  lent  him  a  considerable  sum,  which 
enabled  him  to  carry  out  his  plan.  He  left  Hamburg  the 
following  month,  passing  through  Kiel,  which  he  hoped 
would  be  the  scene  of  his  future  activities.  Arrived  in 
Copenhagen,  he  did  not  immediately  visit  Oehlenschlager,  be- 
cause, as  he  characteristically  observed,  he  was  not  in  the 
habit  of  calling  on  literary  celebrities,  preferring  to  be 
thrown  in  their  company  by  chance.  From  a  Hamburg  ac- 
quaintance, a  certain  Count  Moltke,  he  had  received  letters 
of  introduction,  among  them  one  to  a  brother,  Karl  Moltke, 
a  man,  as  Hebbel  said,  of  considerable  influence.  He  found 
that  it  would  be  a  comparatively  simple  matter  to  gain 
access  to  the  King,  but  he  purposely  delayed  the  audience 
until  assured  that  copies  of  his  writings  had  been  placed  in 
the  royal  hands.  Unless  these  should  make  some  unusual 
impression,  he  felt  that  he  had  no  claims  to  consideration. 

In  the  meantime  he  passed  through  some  instructive 
experiences.  It  is  particularly  interesting  to  observe  what 
happened  when  Hebbel  came  in  touch  with  an  element  of 
life  hitherto  entirely  foreign  to  him,  though  one  he  was  to 
know  more  about  in  the  future  course  of  his  life.  The  brick- 
mason's  son  in  court  circles — such  is  the  picture  we  see  here. 
Not  the  ordinary  son  of  a  brick-mason,  but  a  man  of  genius, 


86  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

proud,  sensitive,  fully  conscious  of  his  essential  superiority, 
yet  hedged  in  at  every  step  by  the  incomprehensible  magic 
of  forms.  With  unconscious  poetic  instinct  he  has  immor- 
talized himself  in  this  situation.  His  Copenhagen  letters  are 
works  of  art. 

As  we  have  seen,  Hebbel  was  almost  entirely  unused  to 
society.  He  had  lived  practically  alone.  Janinski,  a  Pole, 
his  chief  associate  in  Hamburg,  had  encouraged  him  in  his 
"elegant  isolation,"  while  Elise  had  been  his  social  guide.  On 
December  7th  he  was  invited  to  dinner  at  the  home  of  Count 
Moltke.  His  description  of  that  occasion  completely  ful- 
fills his  own  demands  on  comedy,  in  so  far  as  what  was  very 
serious  for  the  actor  is  very  amusing  to  the  spectator.  "If 
a  man  relates  his  triumphs,"  so  he  writes  Elise,  "he  must  also 
give  an  account  of  his  defeats.  This  dinner  turned  out  as 
usual,  that  is  most  wretchedly  as  far  as  my  behavior  went. 
I  am  exceedingly  dissatisfied  with  myself.  Like  a  pendulum 
swinging  between  the  right  thing  and  the  wrong  thing — not 
even  a  son  of  nature,  for  his  security  lies  in  his  ignorance; 
still  less  a  man  who  shows  that  he  has  read  a  book  on  eti- 
quette; a  strange  piece  on  the  chess-board,  which  is  always 
in  the  way,  and  which  the  most  skillful  player  doesn't  know 
what  to  do  with.  .  .  .  No,  I  shall  never  learn  the  tricks 
of  this  game,  and  that  is  a  great  misfortune,  for  I  recognize 
more  and  more  that  so  much  depends  on  the  outward  im- 
pression one  makes.  The  Count  and  his  wife  were  nice  and 
attentive  to  me.  More  so  at  first  than  later,  and  I  found 
that  very  natural,  for  my  embarrassment,  my  ignorance  of 
social  forms,  is  too  noticeable.  For  example  ...  I 
don't  know  at  all  whether  I  should  pay  a  call  after  a  dinner. 
There  is  no  one  here  whom  I  can  ask  about  it,  and 
before  I  can  get  an  answer  from  you,  the  time  will  be  long 
past."  After  a  few  sentences  asking  Elise's  pardon  for 
dwelling  on  such  a  disagreeable  subject,  and  cursing  his  own 
fate,  he  continues :  "As  long  as  I  was  alone  with  my  host  and 
hostess,  matters  went  very  well,  but  when  the  others  came, 
one  Privy  Councilor  and  nobleman  after  the  other,  they  were 
all  acquainted  and  began  to  flock  together.  The  conversa- 
tion, the  only  thing  in  which  I  am  at  some  ease,  turned  on 


The  Widening  Sphere  87 

the  most  particular  interests  .  .  .  and  I  stood  as  if  on 
an  island,  with  everything  sailing  past  me.  The  Countess 
introduced  me  to  a  Mr.  von  Biilow,  who  pretended  to  have 
read  me  and  about  me  long  ago.  At  the  table  I  sat  between 
a  Privy  Councilor  Dumreicher  and  a  somebody  else.  When 
I  can  sit  down  I  am  a  man  again,  as  you  know,  and  I  got  on 
fairly  well,  conversing  and  debating  with  the  one  on  Homer, 
with  the  other  on  gambling.  But  when  we  arose  I  got  every- 
thing mixed  up,  making  my  bows  to  six  persons  and  forget- 
ting four.  You  may  think — and  quite  truly — that  they 
could  just  as  well  have  bowed  to  me,  but  among  those  I 
forgot  were  two  or  three  gentlemen  from  the  government 
offices,  and  they  have  more  to  do  with  filling  the  Kiel  pro- 
fessorship than  the  King.  .  .  .  Besides,  out  of  vexation 
with  myself,  I  did  not  half  satisfy  my  hunger,  and  gave  two 
marks  tip  .  .  .  for  which  I  can  get  an  excellent  dinner 
here.  Another  fine  trick  was  my  failure  to  bow  to  Mr.  von 
Biilow  when  we  broke  up.  And  this  although  I  talked  to  him 
up  to  the  last,  and  he  offered  me  his  services,  as  well  as 
expressing  a  desire  for  further  acquaintance — whereupon  I 
offered  him  my  card.    Was  that  stupid?" 

Equally  interesting  are  the  letters  in  which  Hebbel  tells 
of  the  hours  spent  in  the  company  of  Oehlenschlager  and 
Thorwaldsen.  He  never  had  reason  to  regret  the  visit  he 
finally  paid  to  Oehlenschlager,  half,  as  he  said,  from  ennui, 
and  half  because  it  once  happened  to  be  convenient  when  he 
was  dressed.  Besides  being  the  most  famous  poet  in  Den- 
mark, and  the  author  of  Correggio,  a  drama  composed  in 
German  and  widely  read  in  Germany,  Oehlenschlager  was 
professor  of  esthetics  in  the  University  of  Copenhagen.  He 
had  frequently  occupied  the  position  of  rector  there,  and 
finally  he  had  been  made  privy  councilor.  When  Hebbel  met 
him,  he  was  sixty-three  years  of  age.  "Not  deep,"  said 
Hebbel,  "but  responsive."  "He  was  cordial  beyond  measure, 
so  much  so  that  it  aroused  my  astonishment,  but  touched  me 
deeply  at  the  same  time."  In  Hebbel's  eyes  his  evident 
vanity  was  a  thousand  times  overbalanced  by  the  frankness 
and  generosity  of  his  feelings.  With  Oehlenschager,  versed 
as  he  was  in  German  literature,  former  friend  and  constant 


88  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

admirer  of  Goethe,  a  personal  acquaintance,  in  his  younger 
days,  of  the  Jena  Romanticists,  Hebbel  could  converse  with- 
out reserve  or  restraint.  The  older  poet  became  an  appre- 
ciative reader  of  what  the  younger  had  written,  though  some 
of  it  was,  as  we  can  well  understand,  a  shock  to  him.  "To 
you,"  he  said  to  Hebbel,  "I  use  the  words  Goethe  used  to  me : 
'You  are  a  poet.'  " 

The  most  cordial  relationship  was  soon  established  be- 
tween these  two,  and  in  this  way  Hebbel  gained  access  to 
Thorwaldsen's  studio.  Here  for  the  first  time  he  had  an 
opportunity  to  see  a  great  artist  at  work.  "I  asked  him," 
writes  the  poet,  "whether  he  had  every  statue  standing  clear 
in  his  mind's  eye  before  beginning  to  work.  He  replied  yes, 
and  that  he  took  good  pains  not  to  begin  until  that  was  the 
case.  Certain  details  might  receive  more  or  less  emphasis 
in  the  course  of  the  work,  but  the  main  thing  must  be  there 
at  the  start.  I  was  glad  to  hear  this,  for  this  is  the  way  I 
produce,  and  I  cannot  imagine  any  other  method."  Per- 
sonally he  conducted  Hebbel  to  see  his  finest  works — the 
Venus,  the  Graces,  the  Ganymede.  "Who,"  exclaims  the 
poet,  "can  speak  worthily  of  such  works?  So  much  is 
certain,  that  he  who  has  not  seen  such  masterpieces  of 
sculpture  with  his  own  eyes  knows  nothing  of  beauty." 
Among  the  immediate  visible  effects  of  this  visit  were  the 
verses  entitled  Thorwaldsen's  Ganymede. 

We  are  also  given  a  good  view  of  Thorwaldsen's  personal 
peculiarities.  The  venerable  sculptor  had  a  "face  and  a 
figure  like  Jupiter;  like  a  parent  god  he  wandered  about 
among  all  his  divine  creations."  "I  found  him  modelling,  in 
his  underclothes,  with  woolen  stockings  drawn  up  over  his 
knees  and  a  heavy  fur  cap  on  his  head.  In  this  negligee  he 
receives  everybody,  man  or  woman,  rich  or  poor — it  is  all 
the  same  to  him."  The  most  famous  sculptor  in  Europe,  he 
had  not  learned  to  read  better  than  a  seven-year-old  child. 
Though  wealthy,  he  never  spent  over  fifty  cents  for  dinner, 
and  accepted  invitations  only  in  order  to  save  that.  This 
last  trait  touched  Hebbel  deeply.  "In  this,"  he  says,  "I  see 
nothing  but  the  curse  of  his  poverty  when  he  was  young, 
which  did  not  even  permit  him  to  wear  shirts  or  buy  a  comb. 


The  Widening  Sphere  89 

When  a  man  has  been  the  servant  of  money  he 
rarely  becomes  its  master." 

In  the  meantime  Hebbel  had  had  his  first  audience  with 
the  King.  On  being  informed  by  von  Levetzow  that  the  King 
had  read  his  works  in  part,  he  requested  that  an  audience  be 
arranged,  and  this  took  place  on  Monday,  December  11, 1842. 
If  he  had  taken  a  stenographic  report  of  the  conversation 
Hebbel  could  not  have  given  a  more  circumstantial  account  of 
it  than  he  does.  He  particularly  emphasizes  his  own  calmness. 
"I  am  going  to  see  a  man,"  he  says.  "I  shall  meet  him 
alone,  not  in  a  large  company,  and  it  is  a  matter  of  words, 
not  of  bows."  This  interview  is  characteristic,  as  far  as 
Hebbel  is  concerned,  down  to  its  last  detail.  We  know  it  is 
true,  because  it  is  consistent — it  reflects  the  whole  Hebbel, 
and  the  past  that  made  him  what  he  was.  As  everywhere 
else,  so  in  the  presence  of  the  King  he  is  punctilious  in  as- 
serting the  precise  limits  of  his  rights  and  his  aspirations. 
Somehow  he  manages  to  do  the  greater  part  of  the  talking, 
and  in  one  place  at  least  there  is  an  amusing  rhetorical  tone 
to  his  speech.  Only  on  one  condition — such  are  his  own 
words — can  he  express  his  wishes,  this  condition  being  that 
his  works  have  made  more  than  the  ordinary  impression  on 
the  King.  "For  if  that  were  not  the  case,"  he  continues,  "I 
should  be  merely  adding  another  zero  to  the  hundreds  that 
press  to  the  throne,  and  if  I  am  not  too  proud  for  that  I 
am  at  least  too  wise  for  it."  He  would  like  to  read  his 
Judith  to  the  King,  but.  the  latter  replies  that  he  can  read  it 
alone  just  as  well.  The  Kiel  vacancy  was  a  matter  of  doubt, 
and  even  if  it  should  occur  the  King  already  had. some  one 
in  view.  Hebbel  knew  this  beforehand,  so  he  confined  his 
petition  to  the  privilege  of  becoming  a  privatdozent  with- 
out examination.  It  is  doubtful  whether  he  would  have  used 
this  privilege  had  it  been  granted.  At  any  rate  he  was  re- 
ferred, with  encouraging  words,  to  the  proper  governmental 
department.  Then,  without  any  connection,  Christian  VIII. 
said  to  the  poet :  "Your  Judith,  however,  cannot  be  played. 
I  have  talked  with  the  theater-director  about  it.  It  is  im- 
possible." To  this  Hebbel  replied  that  Judith  had  already 
been  given  in  Berlin  and  Hamburg.    "  But  there  are  horrible 


90  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

things  in  it,"  said  the  King.  "Your  Majesty  means,"  an- 
swered the  poet,  "that  there  are  unusual  things  in  it,  things 
that  in  ordinary  convention  are  considered  improper."  The 
King:  "Yes,  yes."  Hebbel :  "They  were  left  out  of  the  stage- 
version."  The  King:  "You  see!  They  were  left  out!  But  I 
could  not  know  that  when  I  read  it."  Hebbel :  "That  is  true." 
The  King:  "No  doubt  it  is  one  thing  to  write  a  play  to  be 
read,  and  another  to  write  one  for  acting."  Hebbel:  "It 
should  not  be,  but  as  times  now  are  it  no  doubt  is."  Here  a 
pause  ensued,  and  in  order  to  anticipate  the  motion  of  the 
King's  hand,  the  customary  sign  of  dismissal,  the  poet 
bowed  and  took  his  leave. 

His  original  plan  thus  being  fruitless,  Hebbel  was  un- 
certain as  to  remaining  in  Copenhagen  any  longer.  His 
circumstances  were  as  straitened  as  possible.  "Yesterday," 
he  writes,  "I  performed  an  heroic  deed  and  bought  a  loaf  of 
bread."  Upon  Oehlenschlager's  insistence,  however,  he  de- 
cided to  apply  for  a  traveling  pension,  a  common  form  of 
aid  to  literary  men  who  enjoyed  the  favor  of  the  government 
in  Denmark.  Hebbel  yielded  to  this  advice,  and  Oehlen- 
schlager,  in  a  personal  letter  to  the  King,  warmly  recom- 
mended his  young  friend  for  such  a  distinction.  There  was 
a  second  audience  with  Christian.  The  decision  was  post- 
poned for  several  months.  Hebbel  spent,  in  the  meantime, 
a  dreary  winter  in  his  unheated  quarters,  and  found  himself 
at  last  the  victim  of  a  severe  attack  of  rheumatism,  which 
made  him  turn  over  to  the  apothecary  and  the  doctor  every- 
thing he  had  saved  on  fuel.  But  in  April  the  end  of  his  sick- 
ness was  doubly  brightened  by  the  definite  news  that  his  peti- 
tion had  been  granted.  He  was  to  receive  six  hundred  reichs- 
thaler  each  year  for  two  years.  The  poet  could  scarcely 
contain  his  joy.  "Does  it  not  sound  fabulous?  .  .  .  Fried- 
rich  Hebbel  and  twelve  hundred  reichsthaler !  Who  would 
have  thought  that  these  could  ever  meet?  It  is  a  greater 
wonder  than  that  of  Mahomet  and  the  mountain."  With 
double  satisfaction  he  thought  of  the  impression  his  success 
would  make  on  the  doubting  friends  in  Hamburg,  and  es- 
pecially back  in  Wesselburen,  on  the  "rude  mob"  that  had 
"sinned  against"  his  youth.     And  at  the  same  time  Campe 


The  Widening  Sphere  91 

wrote  that  his  firm,  as  a  matter  of  course,  would  publish 
whatever  the  poet  saw  fit  to  write  in  the  future.  From  the 
same  source  came  substantial  aid  in  the  shape  of  money 
advanced  on  work  promised. 

In  Copenhagen  Hebbel  wrote  little.  A  few  poems,  none  of 
which  satisfied  his  highest  demands,  a  brief  but  weighty  essay 
on  the  drama,  published  by  Hauff  in  the  Morgenblatt,  in  Jan- 
uary, 1843,  and  one  act  of  his  next  tragedy,  Clara,  or  Mary 
Magdalene,  as  he  unfortunately  rechristened  it — these  were 
the  fruits  of  his  six  months'  stay  in  Denmark.  He  found 
that  his  literary  reputation  had  preceded  him,  especially 
among  the  younger  poets,  who  were  passing  his  works  around 
from  hand  to  hand.  This  seemed  to  him  a  good  sign,  and  all 
the  more  so  because  the  German  literary  journals  were  act- 
ing as  if  every  one  else  were  "an  Apollo,  and  he  alone  a 
Marsyas."  Much  of  this  neglect,  however,  he  attributed  to 
his  own  conduct.  Over  and  over  again  he  recorded  his  view, 
that  he  had  done  wrong  in  not  making  greater  efforts  to 
placate  the  literary  powers.  Now  he  was  willing,  at  least  he 
thought  he  was,  to  see  more  good  in  them.  In  general,  so 
he  writes  his  friend,  Janinski,  his  attitude  to  the  world  had 
changed.  He  realized  that  he  must  concede  the  world  greater 
rights  and  himself  fewer.  To  this  standpoint,  which  was, 
he  thought,  in  accord  with  his  own  original  nature,  he  now 
meant  to  return,  after  having  gone  to  the  opposite  extreme. 

Therefore  with  excellent  intentions  and  better  prospects 
than  ever  before,  Hebbel  left  Copenhagen  on  April  27, 1843, 
for  Hamburg,  his  plans  still  indefinite.  One  thing  he  knew, 
however — that  he  would  leave  his  native  country  for  Paris  as 
soon  as  possible.  Continued  sickness  and  various  personal 
matters  delayed  his  departure,  so  that  he  did  not  reach  Paris, 
or  rather  Saint  Germain  en  Laye,  until  September.  For  it 
was  there  that  he  had  engaged  a  room  during  the  first  month, 
with  the  idea  of  saving  rent,  and  under  the  wrong  impres- 
sion that  Paris  would  be  easily  accessible  on  foot.  This 
mistake  cost  him  practically  the  first  month. 

"Life  is  deep  solitude,"  says  Hebbel  in  one  of  his  poems, 
and  his  own  life  exemplifies  the  saying.  In  spite  of  his  good 
intentions,  he  remained  isolated  in  Paris,  as  he  had  been 


92  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

isolated  hitherto.  His  inability  to  speak  French,  his  poverty, 
and  his  disposition  all  tended  to  the  same  end.  In  Paris, 
again,  he  found  one  friend  and  admirer  who  became  his 
chief  associate.  This  was  Felix  Bamberg,  a  young  Jew, 
who  in  his  turn  exercised  some  influence  over  the  poet.  Bam- 
berg gives  the  following  description  of  Hebbel  at  that  time: 
"Hebbel  was  slender  and  rather  tall.  His  bodily  structure, 
being  too  slim,  seemed  to  have  suffered  for  the  sake  of  his 
head.  From  beneath  his  high  forehead,  which  was  as  if 
chiseled  in  transparent  marble,  his  blue  eyes  shone  with  a 
mild  light  in  quiet  conversation,  but  assumed,  when  he  was 
aroused,  a  dark  and  liquid  radiance.  Nose  and  mouth  indi- 
cated a  strong  appeal  of  the  senses.  His  cheeks  were  rather 
pale,  just  touched  with  red.  These,  together  with  a  prom- 
inent chin,  gave  a  certain  breadth  to  his  manly  face,  and  in 
looking  at  him,  one  had  the  impression  of  light.  He  had 
the  aristocratic  hand  of  an  artist,  and  an  expressive  voice, 
which  could  change  from  pleasant  to  powerful  tones  accord- 
ing to  the  contents  of  his  speech.  ...  A  natural  eloquence, 
which  always  went  to  the  heart  of  the  matter,  and  a  religious 
earnestness  characterized  him."1  This  confirms  Oehlen- 
schlager's  impression,  as  well  as  that  of  many  others,  that 
Hebbel's  conversation  was  characterized  by  a  persuasive 
and  overwhelming  eloquence.  The  same  quality  is  evident 
in  his  writings. 

As  early  as  December,  1843,  Hebbel  completed  his  next 
drama,  Mary  Magdalene.  He  had  carried  this  work  in  his 
mind  for  years.  As  frequently  happened  in  his  case,  the 
outlines  became  clearer  during  a  severe  illness,  this  time  in 
Copenhagen,  and  the  first  act  was  practically  complete  when 
he  went  to  Paris.  There,  rapid  and  successful  work  was  in- 
terrupted by  the  news  of  the  death  of  his  little  boy,  Max. 
The  child  had  passed  away  after  terrible  suffering  from 
an  attack  of  brain-fever,  "tormented,"  as  the  poet  says,  "by 
two  privileged  murderers,"  meaning  the  physicians.  One  of 
these,  a  Dr.  Kramer,  had  been  rude  to  Elise  Lensing  as  well, 
so  that  Hebbel  longed  for  immortality,  if  only  to  render  his 


1  Article  in  the  Allgefneine  Deutsche  Biographie. 


The  Widening  Sphere  93 

name  infamous  forever.  The  name  stands  out  in  bold  Eng- 
lish type  on  the  page  of  the  poet's  Diary,  who  thus  branded 
the  physician  at  the  same  time  as  he  gave  expression  to  his 
own  grief.  This  Diary  entry,  consisting  of  several  pages,  is 
in  every  way  a  remarkable  document.  It  is  as  if  every  cur- 
tain were  withdrawn,  allowing  us  to  see  the  stream  of  con- 
sciousness surge  past.  No  one  but  a  poet  could  make  such  a 
self-revelation.  The  subconscious  life  is  bared  as  fully  as  in 
the  unrestrained  coherence  of  some  well-interpreted  dream. 
The  thoughts  think  themselves  in  a  storm.  The  father  must 
record  that  he  had  not  unreservedly  loved  his  son,  that  he 
had  thought  of  him  as  an  additional  burden,  that  a  dozen 
wretched  considerations  had  prevented  him  from  clasping 
his  boy,  and  Heaven  with  him,  joyously  to  his  heart.  This 
is  the  burden  of  his  cry.  The  tragic  poet,  he  who  sat  in 
judgment  on  Siegfried  in  Genoveva,  now  felt  the  breath  of 
tragedy  in  his  own  life. 

Thus  he  is  tormented  to  the  verge  of  madness.  But  what 
he  once  said  of  his  letters  is  equally  true  of  such  passages 
in  his  Diary — they  are  silhouettes  of  his  soul.  The  inner 
tranquillity,  which  he  at  first  condemned  as  indifference  and 
coldness,  returned  to  his  spirit,  and  he  began,  both  in  letters 
and  verses,  to  console  the  mother  for  her  loss.  Certainly  no 
more  remarkable  lines  were  ever  written  for  such  an  occasion 
than  those  to  Elise,  entitled  The  Departed  Child  to  His 
Mother,  Christmas,  1843.  That  the  poet  gained  comfort 
from  these  reflections,  or  deepest  thoughts  and  divinations, 
as  he  termed  them,  and  that  he  expected  the  heartbroken 
woman  in  Hamburg  to  do  the  same,  there  can  be  no  doubt. 
In  this  poem  the  child  speaks.  The  message  which  this 
departed  and  now  blessed  spirit  brings  is,  in  general,  as 
follows :  Do  not  resent  the  primeval  powers,  which,  enthroned 
above  all  time,  grasp  every  destiny  in  their  firm  control.  The 
world  is  struggling  back  from  the  gloom  and  oppression 
of  manifold  forms  to  its  original  transfiguring  unity.  Only 
when  the  last  creature  realizes  this  process  can  the  work  be 
completed.  And  then  we  shall  know  why  this  division  oc- 
curred. Perhaps  it  was  in  order  to  let  evil  recognize  its  own 
impotence  through  the  full  exertion  of  its  powers,  or  per- 


94  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

haps  Goc^  could  not  become  conscious  except  through  forms, 
as  man  becomes  conscious  in  language.  Whatever  the  secret 
may  be,  the  struggle  produced  by  hate  and  defiance  in  this 
life  is  only  the  prelude  to  a  higher  harmony. 

Thus  Hebbel  sunk  his  individual  grief  in  the  woe  of  the 
world,  and  it  came  to  him  as  a  revelation  of  a  woman's  heart 
that  Elise  was  unable  to  follow  his  example.  These  were 
the  harassing  conditions  under  which  he  completed  his  Mary 
Magdalene,  that  is,  wrote  the  last  two  scenes,  for  everything 
else  was  finished.  This  play  differs  from  his  two  earlier 
tragedies,  in  that  it  deals  with  contemporary  society.  In  a 
sense,  it  is  the  first  of  that  long  line  of  plays  debating  social 
»  conditions,  which  have  been  made  familiar  to  all  the  world 
by  modern  writers  from  Ibsen  to  Brieux.  Hebbel  at  once 
claimed  a  new  place  for  his  tragedy.  His  predecessors  in 
middle-class  tragedy,  he  declared,  had  shown  a  conflict  be- 
tween upper  and  middle  class,  whereas  in  his  drama  the 
conflict  arises  out  of  the  middle  class  itself.  This  class  is 
thus  no  longer  praised  as  the  bulwark  of  virtue.  On  the  con- 
trary its  ideals  are  questioned  or  denied.  Hebbel's  char- 
acterization of  his  new  play  is  true  in  this  respect,  though 
he  was  unjust  in  his  criticism  of  his  predecessors,  particu- 
larly Lessing  and  Schiller.  The  class  conflict  as  they  treated 
it  was  a  real  conflict.  But  different  times  had  brought  dif- 
ferent problems,  and  Hebbel  was  the  first  writer  of  middle- 
class  tragedy  to  recognize  them.  It  was  his  distinct  service 
to  rescue  the  bourgeois  play  from  the  condition  of  trivial 
comedy,  or  outworn  tragic  conflict,  and  elevate  it  once  more 
to  the  dignity  of  real  tragedy.  He  did  this  by  showing  the 
tragic  aspects  of  narrow  social  convention  in  the  middle  class. 
The  villain  disappears,  and  all  persons  are  equally  right — 
and  equally  wrong.  A  social  order  that  seems  to  be  immov- 
ably fixed  suddenly  discovers  elements  within  itself  that  por- 
tend its  destruction. 

An  episode  in  Hebbel's  life  in  Munich  furnished  him  many 
suggestions  for  the  new  drama.  There  he  had  lived  oh  terms 
of  intimacy  with  a  young  girl  named  Josepha  Schwarz,  whom 
he  called  Beppi.  Her  father  was  a  cabinet-maker,  and  some- 
thing of  a  domestic  tyrant.     His  name  was  Anton.     He  had 


The  Widening  Sphere  95 

a  son  of  a  frivolous  disposition  named  Karl,  whom  Hebbel 
saw  arrested  in  the  house  during  his  stay  there.  The  poet 
was  touched  by  the  sigh  of  relief  that  Beppi  breathed  when 
she  saw  that  Karl's  arrest  would  make  no  difference  in  their 
relation.  On  one  occasi6n  Beppi  told  Hebbel  of  an  affair 
she  had  had  with  a  former  lover,  and  when  he,  like  the  Secre- 
tary in  his  drama,  was  unable  for  the  moment  to  suppress 
his  dismay,  she  went  home  and  attempted  to  poison  herself. 
His  brief  note  on  this  relation  shows  how  deeply  he  felt  the 
sadness  of  her  life. 

It  is  interesting  to  see  what  he  made  of  these  particular 
experiences  in  his  tragedy.  The  story  centers  around  the 
cabinet-maker,  Anton,  and  his  family,  consisting  of  his  wife, 
his  daughter,  Clara,  and  his  son,  Karl.  The  more  modest 
the  circle,  the  greater  would  be  the  merit  in  revealing  the 
universal  qualities  of  human  nature  in  it — such  was  Hebbel's 
idea.  Clara  is  engaged  to  the ^rjusjll^nimpus  Cashier,  Leon- 
hard,  though  she  really  loves  a  Secretary  with  whom  she 
played  in  her  childhood.  But  he  has  gone  off  to  the  univer- 
sities and  apparently  forgotten  her.  Her  friends  ridicule 
her  for  having  aspired  to  a  marriage  above  her  station ;  her 
mother  urges  her  not  to  reject  Leonhard,  who  is  considered 
a  fair  match ;  she  is  angered  at  the  Secretary's  treatment  of 
her,  that  is,  unconsciously  jealous,  and  so,  to  make  an  end 
of  the  whole  thing,  she  commits  the  fatal  mistake  and  con- 
sents. Now  the  Secretary  returns  and  Leonhard  #rows  jeal- 
ous. His  financial  situation  does  not  permit  of  immediate 
marriage,  though  it  promises  to  do  so  in  a  short  time.  But 
in  that  interval  he  might  lose  Clara,  with  her  dowry,  so  he 
takes  advantage  of  a  custom  not  uncommon  in  their  class, 
and  demands  that  she  show  her  complete  confidence  in  him 
by  becoming  his  wife  in  fact  before  marriage.  "If  she  really 
means  to  marry  me,  she  knows  she  is  risking  nothing.  If 
she  says  No,  then — "  Such  is  his  reasoning,  and  in  this  lies 
his  whole  character.    And  he  really  intends  to  marry  her. 

All  this  occurs  before  the  opening  of  the  drama,  and 
is  brought  out  in  an  analytic  exposition.  Leonhard's  good 
intentions  are  not  shattered,  though  shaken  by  the  discovery 
that  Clara's  father  has  given  away  her  dowry  in  order  to 


96  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

save  an  old  friend.  In  the  meantime,  however,  her  brother, 
Karl,  is  imprisoned  on  an  unfounded  charge  of  theft,  by  a 
bailiff  whom  Anton  had  once  insulted,  and  who  has  long 
oeen  waiting  for  a  chance  to  get  revenge.  The  shock  of  this 
disgrace  causes  the  death  of  Clara's  mother,  and  also  gives 
Leonhard  a  good  excuse  to  desert  her,  which  he  does  in  order 
co  marry  the  richer,  though  deformed,  daughter  of  the 
mayor. 

The  cabinet-maker,  a  conscientious,  bigoted  tyrant  in  his 
home,  readily  believes  in  the  guilt  of  his  son,  whose  laxity 
about  church-going  and  some  other  matters  has  always  been 
a  source  of  worry  to  him.  Doubly  embittered  by  his  wife's 
death  and  his  son's  disgrace,  he  regards  Clara  with  suspicion 
not  altogether  uncalled  for  by  her  actions  upon  learning  of 
Leonhard's  desertion.  He  vows  that  if  any  irregularity 
should  be  discovered  on  her  part  he  will  take  his  own  life,  a 
vow  that  Clara  is  fully  convinced  he  will  keep.  Her  former 
lover,  the  Secretary,  now  reenters  her  life  to  sue  for  her 
hand,  and  from  her  desperate  conversation  he  guesses  the 
true  state  of  her  affairs.  At  this  point  Karl's  innocence  is 
completely  established  and  he  is  released  from  prison.  Clara 
makes  a  final  effort  to  induce  Leonhard  to  marry  her,  though 
she  now  loathes  him.  His  refusal  is  given  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  be  a  genuine  relief  to  her.  For  the  first  time  she  sees  him 
in  his  full  worthlessness.  Death  seems  to  her  a  release.  She 
sees  no  other  way  of  escape  and  therefore  takes  her  own  life. 
Hoping  even  to  the  last  to  spare  the  feelings  of  her  father, 
she  does  this  in  a  way  that  might  seem  to  be  accidental.  It 
.s  true,  a  girl  living  nearby  claims  to  have  seen  Clara  spring 
into  the  well,  but  Anton,  in  an  effort  to  save  appearances  at 
any  cost*  refuses  to  believe  this.  He  is  not  allowed,  however, 
to  ebcape  in  this  way.  Clara's  sacrifice  is  in  vain.  The  Sec- 
retary, who  has  fought  a  duel  with  Leonhard  and  killed  him, 
himself  receiving  a  fatal  wound,  makes  use  of  his  last  con- 
scious moments  to  hold  up  the  mirror  of  truth  to  Anton,  to 
himself,  to  the  whole  social  order  of  which  they  are  a  part. 
If  Anton,  he  says  in  effect,  had  been  a  human  father,  if  he 
had  been  a  human  lover,  the  tragedy  would  never  have  oc- 
curred.    They  had  allowed  narrow  prejudice  to  turn  them 


The  Widening  Sphere  97 

into  persecutors  and  murderers  of  an  unfortunate  girl.  The 
drama  closes  with  Anton's  memorable  words :  "I  no  longer 
understand  the  world." 

Mary  Magdalene  is  in  three  acts,  is  written  in  prose, 
and,  in  the  terseness  of  its  action,  resembles/  Judith  rather 
than  the  more  diffuse  Genoveva.  t  The  scene  shifts  four  times, 
between  a  room  in  Anton's  house  and  a  room  at  Leonhard's. 
The  time  occupied  by  the  action  is  a  little  over  a  week.  The 
first  scene  of  this  work  is  an  excellent  example  of  Hebbel's 
skill  in  exposition,  in  seizing  the  chief  moment  and  unfold- 
ing its  implications  in  many  directions.  We  have  the  gen- 
eral situation,  the  characters  and  their  attitude  to  life  pre- 
sented at  comparative  length,  and  we  are  nearly  through 
the  first  act  before  becoming  aware  of  the  particular  prob- 
lem about  which  everything  is  going  to  center.  Then  with 
overwhelming  suddenness  at  the  end  of  that  act,  the  poet 
draws  the  consequences  of  his  careful  exposition.  The 
analytic  nature  of  his  method,  in  its  similarity  to  the  tragedy 
of  the  Greeks,  was  duly  observed  by  Friedrich  Theodor 
Vischcr.  It  is  needless  to  remark  what  use  Ibsen  later  made 
of  this  style  of  exposition. 

The  tragedy  in  this  drama  arises  from  narrowness  and 
bigotry.  No  character  escapes  blame,  the  responsibility 
falls  upon  them  all,  and  in  all  it  centers  upon  their  deaden- 
ing conventions.  It  is  interesting  to  review  them  from  this 
standpoint.  Master  Anton  is  a  man  of  originally  deep  feel- 
ings, but  his  experiences  with  the  world  have  been  bitter  and 
have  embittered  him.  He  is  ashamed  of  his  tender  feelings, 
and  he  so  effectually  conceals  them  beneath  a  harsh,  exterior, 
purposely  assumed,  that  his  daughter  cannot  penetrate  to 
them.  He  is  a  moral  rigorist,  his  standard  is  inflexible  down 
to  the  slightest  detail.  Conscientious  in  the  extreme,  he 
finally  falls  into  that  fatal  conception  of  honor  and  disgrace 
which  makes  a  man  the  slave  of  what  people  will  say  and 
think.  In  his  own  home  he  is  a  tyrant,  disregarding  the 
personal  rights  of  his  family.  He  even  carries  his  petty 
regulations  to  the  extreme  of  prescribing  a  certain  peg  for 
each  particular  garment.  This  course  leads  him  into  a  con- 
fusion of  moral  values ;  he  cannot  distinguish  between  the 


98  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

essential  and  the  non-essential,  between  the  human  and  the 
conventional.  He  is  therefore  unable  to  retain  the  love  and 
respect  of  his  son,  the  very  ties  by  which  he  might  have  influ- 
enced him  for  good.  He  has  no  sympathy  with  him,  no 
comprehension  of  him,  and  from  slight  errors  he  reasons 
at  once  to  the  enormity  of  theft.  In  the  same  way  he  is 
inaccessible  to  Clara.  He  cannot  show  her  the  love  he  feels 
for  her.  If  he  had  given  her  the  slightest  sign  of  sympathy, 
the  tragedy  might  not  have  happened.  His  uncompromising 
attitude  drives  her  to  extremes.  Yet,  in  many  respects,  he 
is  an  excellent  man.  He  gives  up  all  his  savings  to  rescue 
the  honor  of  an  old  friend.  He  is  a  conscientious  workman, 
and,  in  his  way,  a  loving  husband  and  father.  In  fact,  in 
the  eyes  of  many  he  is  a  model  citizen.  It  is  just  this  that 
makes  Hebbel's  delineation  of  him  so  effective. 

Though  the  mother  dies  early  in  .the  drama,  we  have  a 
clear  conception  of  her  position  and  character.  She  is  the 
chief  sufferer  from  her  husband's  despotic  regime,  by  which 
she  has  been  completely  subdued  and  moulded  to  his  manner 
of  thinking.  She  does  her  duty  as  he  sees  it.  But  for  the 
necessity  her  heart  imposes  upon  her  of  standing  between 
him  and  her  children,  she  would  have  preserved  no  trace  of 
independence.  She  is  always  on  the  defensive  in  behalf  of 
Karl,  who,  for  his  part,  is  pathetically  indifferent  to  the 
devotion  thus  centered  upon  him. 

Clara,  again,  must  be  accused  at  the  same  tribunal.  Un- 
der the  strong  pressure  of  gossip  and  other  inadequate  mo- 
tives, she  engages  herself  to  a  man  whom  she  does  not  love. 
Intensifying  this  wrong,  but  not  changing  its  quality,  she 
yields  herself  to  him  before  marriage,  because  nothing  else 
will  satisfy  him  of  her  real  intentions.  She  is  not  worse 
than  others.  Indeed,  she  is  better  and  more  sincere  than 
most  women  would  have  been,  inasmuch  as  she  cannot  deceive 
the  Secretary  when  the  opportunity  presents  itself.  She  is 
capable  of  the  highest  generosity,  sacrificing  her  youth  and 
beauty  to  spare  the  feelings  of  her  father.  Like  the  others 
she  is  a  victim  of  social  prejudices  and  we  pity  her  most 
because  of  her  inexperience,  her  helplessness,  her  inability 
to  defend  herself  against  circumstances. 


The  Widening  Sphere  99 

The  Secretary  shares  with  Clara  the  truest  sense  of 
humanity.  In  two  ways  he  was  at  fault.  By  his  protracted 
silence  he  was  responsible  for  Clara's  engagement  to  Leon- 
hard.  And  when  he  heard  her  confession  his  impulse 
prompted  him  to  use  words  that  could  but  intensify  her 
despair,  "No  man  can  get  over  that."  It  is  true  he  quickly 
repents  of  those  words.  This  attitude  is  only  of  a  moment's 
duration.  He  intends  to  marry  Clara,  in  spite  of  everything 
she  has  done,  but — not  until  Leonhard  is  disposed  of.  This 
is  also  a  prejudice. 

In  Karl  we  see  a  decided  reaction  against  a  false  stand- 
ard.2 In  spite  of  his  frivolity  we  can  comprehend  him.  His 
instincts  lead  him  to  break  away  from  his  surroundings.  He 
is  the  adventuresome  element  in  life.  Even  the  purposeless, 
roving  existence  of  a  seaman  appears  better  to  him  than  the 
narrow  security  of  his  home.  But  his  frivolity  is  fatal. 
Though  he  is  innocent,  he  puts  himself  in  the  way  of  sus- 
picion, and  his  arrest  is  the  initial  cause  of  the  tragedy  in 
the  form  it  assumes. 

Hebbel  asserted  that  all  the  characters  in  his  play  were 
right,  even  Leonhard.  Leonhard  was  not  meant  to  be  a 
villain  upon  whom  evil  is  heaped  for  the  purpose  of  making 
a  conflict.  This  fact  has  been  shown  sufficiently  by  our 
analysis  of  the  other  persons  in  the  drama.  But  even  con- 
sidered by  himself,  Leonhard  is,  unfortunately,  quite  human. 
Bamberg,  to  whom  Hebbel  first  read  Mary  Magdalene,  at 
once  penetrated  into  this  character,  so  that  the  poet  quotes 
his  words  with  full  approval:  "Concerning  Leonhard,  he 
(Bamberg)  made  the  very  true  remark  that  he  was  by  no 
means  repulsive,  because  he  was  naive.  This  had  escaped 
me,  but  it  is  true.  This  rogue  acts  not  on  principle,  but 
according  to  his  innermost  nature.  One  is  not  vexed  with 
him,  but  with  God  for  making  him."3  If  we  wish  to  relieve 
Leonhard  of  personal  responsibility  for  being  repulsive, 
we  can  do  it  in  this  way,  and  that  is  no  doubt  what  Bamberg 


2  This  is  Bamberg's  view,  in  opposition  to  Fr.  Th.  Vischer,  and  it  is 
no  doubt  correct.  Reaction  against  domestic  tyranny  may  very  well  take 
the  form  Hebbel  gives  it  in  Karl. 

'Letter  to  Elise,  December  5,  1843. 


100         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

meant.  Society  is  also  responsible  for  him  and  his  way  of 
thinking,  for  Society  not  only  tolerates  him,  but  stamps  him 
with  official  approval.  It  is  a  stifling  moral  atmosphere 
where  Leonhards  can  thrive. 

Naturally  enough,  the  point  around  which  Mary  Mag- 
dalene revolves — Clara's  relation  to  Leonhard — has,  from 
Hebbel's  day  to  this,  been  severely  criticised.  Leonhard's 
character  makes  the  occurrence  hard  to  accept.  In  addition 
to  what  has  already  been  said  concerning  Clara's  motives  in 
this  case,  the  following  seems  worthy  of  consideration. 
Clara  does  not  know  Leonhard  in  the  beginning  as  she  knows 
him,  and  as  we  know  him,  at  the  end.  It  is  a  keen  insight 
into  human  nature,  or  such  human  nature,  that  Hebbel  does 
not  allow  Leonhard  to  show  his  real  self  until  he  is  assured 
of  possessing  Clara,.  Up  to  this  time  the  young  and  inex- 
perienced girl  had  only  a  superficial  knowledge  of  him. 
Anton  wrongly  kept  his  judgment  of  Leonhard.  to  himself. 
In  the  first  conversation  between  Clara  and  Leonhard  after 
her  fatal  error,  she  learns  more  of  him  in  two  minutes  than 
in  all  their  previous  acquaintance.  We  can  feel  the  terror 
growing  in  her  heart  as  she  realizes  that  she  is  bound  to  this 
man.  As  a  motive,  on  the  other  hand,  Leonhard's  demand 
is  little  less  interesting  than  her  consent.  He  himself  assigns 
jealousy  as  the  reason,  meaning  jealousy  of  Clara  and  her 
dowry.  Not  of  her  dowry  alone — her  beauty  counts  for 
something.  In  his  mind  amatory  and  financial  considera- 
tions form  a  strange  mixture.  It  is  very  instructive  to  fol- 
low his  self- justification  for  every  step  he  takes.  He  is  a 
more  energetic,  a  more  cunning  Ichabod  Crane.  He  char- 
acteristically rejoices  in  his  own  subtleties,  and  as  a  swindler 
he  is  an  amateur  who  has  in  him  the  making  of  a  professional. 

Thus  the  more  closely  one  examines  this  danger  point  in 
the  drama,  the  more  finely  woven  is  the  web  of  motives  about 
it  found  to  be.  And  yet  Hebbel  soon  discovered  that  this 
very  situation  between  Clara  and  Leonhard  was  a  stone  of 
stumbling  both  to  critics  and  theater  directors.  "My  drama 
is  perfectly  adapted  to  the  stage.  If  they  won't  give  that, 
then  I  don't  know  the  reason."  Such  were  his  words  in  a 
letter  to  Elise,  immediately  after  having  completed  his  new 


The  Widening  Sphere     *• ^' ">  *;  *  lOJf 

drama.  Groaning  over  "the  outrageous  •postage,1'  he  serif 
his  manuscript  to  Madam  Stich-Crelinger.  In  her  reply 
she  spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of  Hebbel's  poetic  talent,  com- 
menting especially  on  his  improvement  in  stage  technique, 
from  which  she  inferred  that  he  had  frequented  the  theater 
more  diligently  in  the  meantime.  "This,"  says  the  poet  in 
his  answer,  "must  lie  in  the  unconscious  development  of  my 
talent,  for  I  have  not  been  in  the  theater  five  times  since 
Judith  was  written."  But  in  the  main  question,  that  of  the 
drama  being  given,  her  opinion  was  unfavorable,  because  of 
the  theme  discussed  in  it.  Negotiations  were  kept  up  until 
May  16,  1844,  when  the  poet  received  definite  notice  of  the 
refusal  of  his  work  in  Berlin.  He  resolved  to  have  it  pub- 
lished. Cotta,  the  aristocratic  Swabian  firm,  whose  name 
was  a  guarantee  in  itself,  and  whom  Hebbel  at  different  times 
approached  in  vain,  declined  to  consider  the  new  work,  just 
as  if  he  had  "been  knocking  at  the  publishers'  doors  for  the 
first  time."  Campe,  however,  agreed  to  publish  the  drama, 
and  it  appeared  in  September,  1844,  with  a  dedication  to 
Christian  XIII.  of  Denmark,  and,  what  was  more  important, 
provided  with  a  preface,  a  sort  of  manifesto  of  Hebbel's  dra- 
matic theory.  Into  the  nature  of  this  latter  it  is  now  time 
to  enquire. 


CHAPTER    VII 

TWO  ESSAYS  ON  THE  THEORY  OF  THE  DRAMA 

THE  complete  edition  of  HebbePs  works  by  Professor  R. 
M.  Werner  comprises  twelve  volumes  of  the  works 
proper,  four  volumes  of  the  Diary,  and  eight  volumes  of 
Letters.  The  works  proper  contain  fourteen  dramas  and 
important  dramatic  fragments,  a  large  number  of  poems, 
and  a  number  of  stories.  Besides  these  works,  we  find  sev- 
eral theoretical  essays  on  the  drama,  and  on  language,  and 
many  critical  reviews,  as  well  as  a  considerable  part  devoted 
to  impressions  of  travel  or  contemporary  events.  HebbePs 
productions,  therefore,  fall  naturally  into  a  practical  and  a 
theoretical  group,  while  in  the  Letters,  and  more  especially 
in  the  Diary,  we  have  a  fund  of  personal  comment,  which 
serves  to  illuminate  the  works  proper.  The  Diary  alone 
assumes  great  importance,  embodying  in  direct  quotation, 
or  otherwise,  much  of  what  is  contained  in  the  Letters,  and 
constituting,  in  the  opinion  of  some  critics,  HebbePs  chief 
claim  to  immortality.  Though  this  is  hardly  the  case,  his 
Diary  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  documents  in  German 
literature. 

Many  writers  on  Hebbel  put  the  following  questions: 
What  is  text,  and  what  is  glossary?  Are  the  dramas  so 
much  illustrative  material  to  establish  and  explain  the 
theory?  Or,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  theory  an  attempt, 
perfect  or  imperfect,  to  interpret  the  dramas?  This,  how- 
ever, is  obviously  not  the  only  way  to  formulate  the  case. 
The  dramas  and  the  theory  may  have  independent  values. 
The  theory  may  be  true,  even  if  the  dramas  fail  to  illustrate 
it,  and  the  dramas  may  be  good,  though  they  fail  to  illus- 
trate the  theory.  Or  they  would  be  good,  if  the  theory  is 
true,  and  they  do  illustrate  it.  If  it  is  a  question  of  deciding, 
as  it  really  is,  whether  Hebbel  is  primarily  a  poet  or  a  specu- 
lative thinker,  we  must  decide  unhesitatingly  for  the  first. 

102 


Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama        103 

Much  of  his  theory  is  purely  practical,  dealing  with  aspects 
of  his  art  of  which  a  poet  could  scarcely  be  unconscious. 
The  metaphysical  implications  of  his  theory,  which  with  all 
their  contradictions  have  been  drawn  for  him  by  Arno 
Scheunert,  he  never  fully  realized,  nor  were  they  able,  while 
threatening  the  variety  and  spontaneity  of  his  creations,  to 
drown  the  voices  of  his  native  genius. 

The  problem  just  stated  is  not  the  only  one  in  this  diffi- 
cult chapter  on  Hebbel.  The  whole  subject  swarms  with 
problems.  Whether  his  theory  is  original  or  borrowed  from 
the  absolute  philosophy  of  his  time  (Schelling,  Solger, 
Hegel) — whether  his  dramas  are  in  accord  with  his  theory  or 
not,  yes,  even  what  his  theory  is — such  are  the  most  interest- 
ing questions.  Widely  divergent  views  are  held  concerning 
them  all.  The  following  discussion  proposes  to  do  three 
things :  first,  to  give  a  brief  outline  of  Hebbel's  two  main 
essays  on  the  drama;  second,  to  point  out  the  relationship 
between  these  views  and  the  three  philosophers  above  named ; 
and,  finally,  to  indicate  the  two  most  authoritative  and  repre- 
sentative interpretations  of  the  theory  among  the  present 
German  critics  of  the  poet.  Each  of  these  divisions  must 
be  treated  with  the  utmost  conciseness.  The  other  important 
question,  as  to  the  relation  between  Hebbel's  theory  and  his 
dramas,  cannot  be  discussed  to  advantage  until  all  the 
dramas  have  been  outlined.  An  attempt  to  answer  this  will 
be  made  near  the  end  of  the  volume. 

An  immediate  statement  of  the  contents  of  the  first  essay 
would  only  confuse  a  reader  unfamiliar  with  Hebbel's  modes 
of  thought.  It  is,  therefore,  necessary  to  lead  up  to  that 
point  by  degrees.  In  a  letter  to  one  of  his  friends,  Hebbel 
made  a  confession,  which  was  literally  true,  and  which  may 
be  considered  characteristic  of  his  entire  mode  of  thought. 
He  said  that  from  his  youth  he  had  had  the  habit  of  seeing 
in  things  not  the  things  themselves,  but  symbols  of  nature 
or  history.  This  is  another  way  of  stating  that  demand 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  was  the  first  demand  he  made  of  all 
art:  that,  through  the  finite,  it  reveal  the  infinite.  "The 
poet  is  always  in  relation  to  the  infinite,  and  in  every  work 
the  genius  makes  an  anagram  of  creation"   (May,  1837). 


104         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

"Philosophy  is  always  concerned  with  the  Absolute,  and 
that  is  after  all  really  the  task  of  poetry"  (September, 
1837).  When  Hebbel  considers  a  theme,  he  instinctively 
enquires  into  its  "symbolic"  elements.  The  story  of  Joan 
of  Arc  symbolizes  the  individual  being  sacrificed  to  divine 
need.  The  same  is  true,  as  we  have  seen,  of  Judith.  And 
Genoveva  was  intended  to  symbolize  the  atoning  power  of 
pure  virtue.  As  early  as  1835,  in  a  paper  read  before  the 
Club  in  Hamburg,  he  clearly  outlined  his  high  conception 
of  art.  Poetry  "must  lay  hold  of  and  present  life  in  all  its 
various  forms.  That  this  is  not  merely  a  copying  is  self- 
evident.  .  .  .  What  we  desire  to  see  is  the  point  from  which 
life  begins,  and  that  at  which,  as  a  single  wave,  it  is  lost 
again  in  the  great  sea  of  infinite  creation." 

First,  therefore,  art  is  a  symbolic  presentation  of  life. 
And  second,  art  for  Hebbel  means  literature,  and  literature 
means  above  all  else  the  drama.  Hence  his  thought  turns 
about  the  problem  of  character.  Man  stands  in  the  center 
of  his  reflections.  "What  makes  tragedy  is  man's  struggle, 
not  the  result  of  that  struggle."  This  struggle  of  man  is 
a  symbol  for  him  of  the  whole  process  of  life.  'The  drama 
he  chose,  even  as  early  as  1835,  by  which  to  illustrate  his 
views,  shows  us,  moreover,  the  specific  nature  of  man's 
struggle.  It  was  the  Prince  of  Homburg,  by  Heinrich  von 
Kleist.  Its  central  theme  Hebbel  then  formulated  as  fol- 
lows :  "Power  stands  above  the  law,  and  courage  recognizes 
no  boundaries  but  itself."  Kleist's  drama,  of  course,  shows 
the  futility  of  that  proposition.  Tne  respective  rights  of 
the  individual  and  the  state,  as  embodied  here  in  law — such 
was  the  problem  that  interested  the  youthful  Hebbel  in 
his  criticism.  He  made  it  the  basis,  in  one  form  or  another, 
of  all  his  work.  So  much  for  the  general  subject  of 
tragedy.  From  a  practical  standpoint,  one  other  consider- 
ation. Only  in  his  growth  is  man  a  subject  of  tragedy. 
"The  first  and  last  object  of  art  is  to  represent  the 
life-process  itself,  to  show  how  man's  inner  nature  un- 
folds within  its  surrounding  atmosphere,  whether  that  is 
suitable  to  him  or  not.  To  show  how  good  in  him  produces 
evil,    and    this    in    turn    something   better,    and    that    this 


Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama        105 

process  ...  in  reality  has  no  end— such  is  symbolism" 
(February,  1839). 

The  poet,  who  would  otherwise  not  be  a  dramatic  poet 
at  least,  regards  this  struggle  of  man  now  from  the  indi- 
vidual's point  of  view,  and  now  from  the  opposite  direction. 
The  individual  must  exert  his  powers  until  they  meet  resist- 
ance. That  is  a  law  of  h}s  being.  That  contingency,  how- 
ever, is  certain.  For  human  life  is  a  conflict,  the  whole  of  it 
is  a  warfare,  more  or  less  tenacious  as  the  case  may  be. 
"What  we  call  life  is  the  presumption  of  a  part  over 
against  the  whole."  All  general  forces  at  once  attempt  to 
destroy  anything  particular,  either  during  its  formation  or 
thereafter  (Jan.,  1842). 

That  is,  briefly,  in  Hebbel's  view  life  is  tragedy.  To  use  a 
word  applied  to  his  philosophy  by  one  of  his  German  critics, 
he  considers  life  as  a  pan-tragic  process.  This  sounds 
quite  pessimistic,  and  Hebbel  was  not  blind  to  this  fact. 
His  attitude  is  that  of  a  man  reconciling  himself  as  best 
he  can  with  a  reality  that  he  cannot  change.  He  does  not 
doubt  the  reality.  Sometimes  he  states  all  the  implications 
of  his  theory  with  an  unpleasant  frankness.  In  discussing 
his  Judith,  he  declares :  "All  tragedy  lies  in  destruction  and 
proves  nothing  but  the  emptiness  of  existence"  (July, 
1841).  Or  one  year  later:  "I  am  thinking  much  about  what 
reviewers  call  reconciliation  in  tragedy.  There  is  no  recon- 
ciliation. The  heroes  fall  because  they  are  overweening" 
(July,  1842).  In  vain  his  mind  seeks  some  comfort,  some 
resting  point  in  this  conception,  which  his  nature  and  his 
observation  force  upon  him.  "I  ask:  Why  this  overweening 
pride?  To  what  end  this  curse  of  power?  Only  if  it  were 
thereby  elevated,  really  ennobled,  could  I  be  reconciled  to 
it.  And  yet,  one  could  still  ask:  Why  is  this  gradation 
necessary?  Why  this  ascending  line,  in  which  every  ad- 
vance must  be  won  by  such  unspeakable  pains?"  In  Copen- 
hagen he  reads  Hegel's  Esthetic,  and  his  mind  is  continually 
occupied  with  this  question  of  reconciliation  in  tragedy. 
"Oehlenschlager  wants  reconciliation.  So  do  I.  But  I  want 
the  reconciliation  of  the  Idea" — here  Hebbel  uses  the  term  in 
Hegel's  sense — "he,  that  of  the  individual.     As  if  tragedy 


106         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

were  possible  within  the  limits  of  individual  compensation!" 
(January,  1843). 

These  quotations  bring  us  up  to  the  publication  of  the 
first  essay,  A  Word  about  the  Drama,  which  appeared  in 
Hauff's  Morgenblatt,  in  January,  1843.  It  is  characteris- 
tically brief,  embracing  only  about  seven  pages.  The  poet 
had  only  to  present,  in  connected  form,  ideas  long  clear  in 
his  own  mind.  He  did  this  with  the  naive  confidence  of  the 
creative  spirit,  and  in  a  form  unhampered,  as  he  put  it,  by 
systematic  method. 

He  outlines  his  views  on  the  following  questions:  The 
general  basis  and  function  of  the  drama,  the  nature  of 
tragic  guilt,  the  relative  importance  of  character  and  plot, 
and  the  relation  between  drama  and  history.  In  a  few  para- 
graphs at  the  end  he  discusses  the  state  and  prospects  of 
contemporary  drama  in  Germany. 

The  drama  must  represent  the  life-process  in  its  essence. 
Life  manifests  itself  in  a  twofold  way,  as  static  life  and  as 
growing  life  (Sein  und  Werden),  in  individual  form 
(Werden),  and  as  an  "original  nexus"  (Sein),  from  which 
the  individual  has  sprung.  The  individual,  "in  spite  of  its 
incomprehensible  freedom,"  is  still  a  part  of  this  whole,  and 
since  its  very  nature  is  particularity,  it  is  in  a  "critical 
relation"  to  the  whole.  It  expresses  its  freedom  in  acts, 
but  these  acts  are  immediately  "modified  and  transformed" 
by  the  event,  which  is  the  "expression  of  necessity,"  i.  e.,  of 
the  whole.  The  more  definite  and  energetic  these  acts  are, 
the  more  certain  are  they  to  be  opposed  by  the  general  will. 

The  definition  of  tragic  guilt  grows  directly  out  of  this 
position.  Tragic  guilt  is  the  mere  self-assertion  of  the  in- 
dividual. The  direction  of  that  self-assertion,  whether 
along  the  lines  commonly  called  "good"  or  those  called 
"bad,"  is,  from  the  point  of  view  of  tragedy,  a  matter  of 
complete  indifference.  Indeed  the  most  powerful  tragedy 
would  result  when  the  hero  is  destroyed  in  a  praiseworthy 
undertaking.  Hebbel  is  very  emphatic  on  this  point,  which 
is  one  of  the  most  characteristic  phases  of  his  theory.  He 
supports  his  argument  by  his  interpretation  of  Sophocles' 
Antigone.      "Antigone   wishes    to    perform    a    sacred   duty 


Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama        107 

.  .  .  and  yet  she  perishes,  though  she  violates  nothing  but 
a  civil  law,  which  in  itself  is  not  tenable  and  only  formally 
represents  the  idea  of  the  state." 

Of  the  two  elements,  plot  and  character,  character  is 
by  far  the  more  important  for  modern  drama.  Witness 
Shakespeare's  example.  The  dramatic  characters  must  be 
shown,  not  as  finished  but  changing.  One  character  should 
dominate  the  action  and  be  to  the  subordinate  persons  what 
the  divine  law  is  to  him.  The  poetic  character  must  be 
endowed  with  more  than  normal  self-consciousness.  This 
is  proved  by  Shakespeare,  and  is  in  fact  a  necessary  law  of 
the  drama.  It  is  due  to  the  limitation  of  art  as  compared 
with  life,  which  is  unlimited  in  time  and  means.  In  life 
action  precedes  words,  in  art  words  must  accompany,  or 
may  even  precede,  action. 

The  relation  of  drama  to  history  is  another  character- 
istic phase  of  Hebbel's  discussion.  History  naturally  fur- 
nishes the  best  material  for  the  drama,  but  what  makes  the 
drama  historical  is  not  its  material.  Hebbel  realized  the 
complexity  in  fact  and  motive  of  all  that  happens.  His- 
tory, i.  e.  the  traditional  body  of  facts,  is  best  described, 
in  his  opinion,  by  the  familiar  phrase  that  it  is  a  fable 
agreed  upon.  It  is  one  version  of  something  that  occurred. 
When  he  speaks,  on  the  other  hand,  of  history  as  a  critique 
of  the  world  spirit,  he  means  not  material  history,  but 
history  properly  interpreted.  The  dramatic  poet,  if 
worthy  of  the  name,  is  a  proper  interpreter.  Hebbel  agreed 
with  Tieck  in  considering  Shakespeare  a  great  historian  as 
well  as  a  great  tragedian,  and  that  in  all  his  dramas.  The 
poet  is  not  a  prophet  in  the  valley  of  dry  bones,  he  is  a 
priest  interpreting  the  meaning  of  life  in  symbols  drawn 
from  history.'  He  can  do  that  by  an  invented  subject,  but 
it  is  unwise  to  invent  subjects  when  those  sanctioned  by 
tradition  are  ready  to  hand.  He  must  not  be  a  slave  of 
that  tradition,  he  must  correct  where  tradition  errs.  But 
the  poet,  while  he  is  a  historian  in  the  highest  sense,  writes 
the  history,  not  of  former  times  but  of  his  own.  The 
history  of  Greece  lives  best  in  her  tragedies,  and  to  some 
distant   future  Shakespeare  will  be  in  the  same  sense  the 


108         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

historian  of  his  country  and  his  age.  The  poet  can  never 
give  anything  but  himself.  Yet  if  he  does  not  "stubbornly 
creep  into  his  own  lean  ego,  but  is  penetrated  by  the  in- 
visible elements  that  are  forever  in  flux,"  he  may  be  sure 
that  this  self,  and  hence  his  works,  will  reflect  his  times.  In 
order  to  make  his  dramas  convincing,  he  must,  if  he  choose 
historical  material,  of  course  represent  his  characters  in 
their  native  atmosphere.  But  this  is  merely  an  indispens- 
able law  of  his  art,  not  an  object  in  itself. 

After  this  outline  of  Hebbel's  views  on  the  relation  of 
drama  to  history,  we  can  understand  why  he  called  his 
dramas  an  offering  to  the  spirit  of  his  age,  whether  he 
draws  from  Jewish  or  Greek  tradition,  whether  he  seeks  to 
reconstruct  the  vanishing  dawn  of  religious  consciousness 
and  the  beginnings  of  civilization  (Moloch),  or  to  portray 
the  transition  of  the  Germanic  into  the  Christian  world 
(Nibelungen).  In  this  sense,  Mary  Magdalene  is  as 
historical  as  Judith  or  Genoveva. 

What  strikes  us  particularly  in  this  essay  on  the  drama, 
is  the  stern  view  taken  of  guilt  as  the  result  of  individual 
existence.  There  is  no  reconciliation  except  in  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  individual  existence.  It  is  not  even  necessary, 
though  better,  that  the  individual  become  conscious  of  the 
process  he  has  endured.  The  ordinary  individual  is  the 
drop  in  the  stream,  the  tragic  individual  is  the  block  of 
ice,  which  must  be  melted  down  before  mingling  with  the 
waters  about  it.  Or  the  poet  puts  his  idea  in  a  different 
way.  The  individual  is  the  defective  form  of  the  Idea,  and 
the  tragedy  shows  how  the  Idea  is  freed  from  its  defective 
form. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  the  individual  this  is  a  hard 
saying.  It  proved  too  hard  for  the  modern  individualistic 
mind.  Hebbel  soon  saw  that  the  question  of  reconciliation 
was  a  stumbling  block  between  himself  and  the  public.  Not 
only  were  his  dramas  censured  for  their  pessimism,  his 
theory  was  attacked  from  the  same  angle,  as  allowing  the 
drama  to  close  with  a  "dissonance."  This  accusation  was 
made  by  Professor  J.  L.  Heiberg,  a  prominent  Danish 
critic,  who  attacked  Hebbel  with  some  severity,  and  among 


Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama        109 

other  things  declared  him  to  be  a  philosophical  bankrupt. 
Hebbel  was  not  the  man  to  accept  this  criticism  amiably. 
In  a  sharp  reply,  printed  by  Campe  in  the  summer  of  1843, 
he  reaffirms  his  position  point  for  point,  with  an  even  more  . 
emphatic  statement  on  reconciliation.  He  knew  that  this  | 
was  the  pivot  of  his  theory.  He  therefore  disclaims  that  he 
is  advancing  any  new  doctrine.  He  takes  refuge  with 
Shakespeare  and  the  Greeks.  So  far  from  the  drama,  as  he 
conceives  it,  ending  with  a  dissonance,  it  ends,  he  says,  with 
the  highest  harmony,  it  automatically  destroys  the  dualistic 
form  of  life,  "as  soon  as  that  appears  too  sharply."  It 
procures  satisfaction  for  the  Idea  in  destroying  the  indi- 
vidual form  which,  by  act  or  by  existence,  threatens  to 
assume  too  much  room  for  itself.  This  satisfaction  "is  now 
incomplete,  if  the  individual  perishes,  sullen  and  unrecon- 
ciled, .  .  .  and  now  complete,  if  the  individual  gains  in^ 
his  death  a  clear  view  of  his  relation  to  the  whole  and  de- 
parts in  peace." 

This  was  the  best  Hebbel  could  do.  With  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  eternal  operations  of  a  divine  law,  he  could  not  deny 
its  existence  because  individuals  were  crushed  in  the  process. 
That  was  what  constituted  him  a  tragedian.  A  tragic  view 
of  life  is  for  most  people  an  exalted  and  unsupportable 
vision.  The  poet  saw  in  every  man,  and  hence  especially  in 
the  tragic  hero,  two  modes  of  existence,  the  one  individual 
and  particular,  expressed  in  his  single  deeds,  the  other 
universal,  connecting  him  with  the  divine  order.  One 
temporal  and  one  eternal.  Death  is  a  crucible  in  which  the 
human  perishes,  but  the  divine  lives.  Tragedy  serves  the 
same  function  for  its  victims.  It  is  the  lightning  flash  that 
reveals  in  the  same  moment  it  consumes,  the  vision  of  God 
that  is  death.  Its  reconciliation  lies  in  this  revelation  and 
in  this  vision.  None  other  is  possible,  and  with  this  we 
must  agree  in  spite  of  the  shudder  that  runs  through  us. 
The  tragic  canon  he  expressly  adopts  is  found  in  the  closing 
words  of  the  chorus  in  Antigone:  One  must  show  all  rever- 
ence to  the  gods.  Haughty  words  of  proud  men  are 
punished  by  overwhelming  might  and  teach  wisdom  to  old 
age. 


110         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

Hebbel  made  no  claim  by  this  view  to  have  banished 
mystery  from  life.  On  the  contrary,  he  demanded  that  art 
should  symbolize  the  mystery  it  finds  in  life,  and  thus  bring 
life  closer  to  our  consciousness.  Why  the  dualism,  i.  e.  the 
individuation,  should  exist  at  all,  is  a  question  in  which  "the 
drama  and  the  mystery  of  the  world  are  lost  in  one  and 
the  same  night."  For  "even  if  the  rift  is  closed,  why  did 
the  rift  have  to  be  opened?  To  this  I  have  never  found 
an  answer,  and  no  one  will  find  it  who  asks  seriously." 

Hebbel's  first  essay  was,  after  all,  mainly  practical. 
What  metaphysics  it  contained  was  presented  categori- 
cally, and  apparently  seemed  to  the  author  a  matter  of 
course.  This  was  natural.  He  had  no  comprehensive 
logical  system.  Logical  thinking  was  not  his  means  of 
apprehending  reality.  He  did  that  in  good  Bergsonian 
fashion.  He  is  like  a  man  uttering  sentences  in  a  dream. 
With  remarkable  persistence  he  comes  back  to  the  same 
position  over  and  over  again.  If  any  one  should  take 
these  oracular  texts  and  weave  them  into  a  metaphysical 
whole,  as  Scheunert,  for  one,  does,  he  could  deny  that  it  was 
of  his  construction.  And  properly  so.  These  statements 
are  not  fragments  of  a  logical  system,  but  reflections  of  a 
different  totality,  of  the  same  totality  which  is  reflected 
in  the  dramas.  No  one  has  proved  more  clearly  than 
Scheunert,  that  every  attempt  on  Hebbel's  part  to  round 
out  his  sayings  into  a  connected  whole  involved  him  in  hope- 
less contradiction. 

According  to  Scheunert's  analysis,  which  seems  entirely 
sound,  Hebbel's  thinking  was  really  an  experiencing,  and  he 
attained  his  system  by  generalizing  that  experience.  This 
is  the  same  thing  as  saying  he  attained  it  by  intuition. 
Hebbel's  own  experience  showed  him  that  the  social  order 
presented  a  solid  front  to  all  individual  encroachments,  that 
settled  tradition  is  hostile  to  anything  new.  This  conflict 
is  a  necessary  one,  since  the  existence  of  the  social  order 
depends  on  conservatism,  while  the  individual,  with  equal 
right,  asserts  its  particular  direction.  Even  a  superficial 
reading  of  history  was  sufficient  to  convince  him  that  this 
principle  ran  through  all  human  epochs,  that  it  explained 


Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama        111 

all  the  martyrdoms,  and  that  both  mankind  and  the  indi- 
vidual, as  parties  to  the  tragedy,  were  right.  The  next 
step  was  to  assume  that  this  process  expressed  a  meta- 
physical law,  and  that  all  individual  existence  necessitated 
a  continual  warfare  between  the  individuals  and  the 
"original  nexus."  This  is  what  he  means  when  he  speaks 
of  the  Idea  (the  highest  term  of  the  absolute  philosophers) 
on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  individual  on  the  other.  The 
Idea  is  manifested  in  the  history  of  man  and  in  all  human 
institutions,  and  for  the  purpose  of  the  dramatist,  who 
needs  something  concrete,  the  social  institutions  represent 
the  Idea,  i.  e.,  they  assume,  in  many  cases,  the  role  of  the 
conservative  force,  the  totality,  against  which  the  indi- 
vidual is  shattered. 

These  considerations  will  help  us  understand  the  poet's 
second  essay  on  the  drama,  which  appeared  as  the  Preface 
to  Mary  Magdalene.  According  to  Emil  Kuh,  Hebbel's 
decision  to  write  this  Preface  was  attributable  to  his  associ- 
ation with  Bamberg,  at  that  time  a  disciple  of  Hegel,  and 
it  was  probably  confirmed  by  Madam  Stich-Crelinger's  ob- 
jections to  giving  the  drama  on  the  stage.  Hebbel  seems 
to  have  been  engaged  on  the  essay  as  early  as  January, 
1844,  and  he  completed  it  in  March  of  that  year.  Bamberg 
denies  having  influenced  him.  He  says  Hebbel  was  far  too 
securely  grounded  to  have  admitted  of  that  possibility.1 
Kuh's  assertion,  however,  is  supported  by  the  testimony  of 
the  poet  himself,  at  a  later  time,  when  he  wished  he  had  not 
written   the  Preface. 

The  style  of  the  Preface  is  particularly  difficult  and 
involved.  Vischer  describes  it  as  an  unheard-of  German. 
The  sentences  wind  on  interminably.  Hebbel  posts  his 
main  object,  the  central  thought,  half  way  down  the  page, 
and  then  begins  to  meander  toward  it  through  a  bewildering 
maze  of  parenthetical  and  limiting  phrases  and  clauses, 
until  the  reader's  attention  is  strained  to  the  uttermost. 
As  for  the  contents,  the  striking  thing  is  that  the  poet 
proclaims  a  new  type  of  drama.     In  the  first  essay  he  had 


1  Allgemeine  Deutsche  Biographic 


112         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

been  content  to  lay  bare  the  basis  of  all  tragedy — a  basis 
he  never  deserted — and  to  claim  kinship  with  Shakespeare 
and  the  Greeks.  In  the  second  essay,  if  he  does  not  leave 
this  basis,  he  at  least  attempts  to  erect  a  new  structure 
upon  it. 

The  new  essay  is  best  understood  from  two  points  of 
view.     One  is  that  of   reconciliation,  the   other  that  of   a 

'  defence  of  art  against  Hegel.  That  Hebbel  was  on  the 
defensive — though   of   a   somewhat   aggressive   kind,   as   we 

'  shall  see — we  know  both  from  his  own  admission  later,  as 
well  as  from  the  nature  of  the  essay  itself.     The  reconcilia- 

I  tion  now  proposed  may  be  considered,  in  comparison  with 

;   the  former  standpoint,  a  slight  concession  to  the  individual. 

I  For  though  still  suffering  a  tragic  fate,  he  may,  provided 
this  reaches  his  consciousness,  draw  consolation  from  the 
fact  that  his  death  is  a  sacrifice  to  a  higher  cause.  Cer- 
tainly the  spectator  draws  this  consolation.  What  is  this 
higher  cause?  The  answer  to  that  question  is  the  essence 
of  the  new  drama. 

Hebbel  begins  his  Preface  by  saying  that  the  drama 
has  the  task  of  illustrating  the  relation  of  man  to  the  Idea. 
It  is  possible  in  its  highest  form  only  when  some  decisive 
change    occurs    in    that     relation.     Thus     far    in    human 

j  histpry  pnly  two  such  crises  have  arisen.     The  third  is  in 

J  process  in  our  own  times.  The  first  occurred  in  the  Greek 
world  when  the  naive  faith  in  the  gods  was  replaced  by  the. 
conception  of  an  overwhelming  fatel  Greek  tragedy  aided.' 
in  the  consummation  of  this  cha'nge  by  bringing  it  clearly 
to  human  consciousness.  Here  the  dramatic  discussion,  or. 
the  tragic  dualism,  is  between  fate  and  man.  The  second 
crisis  in  man's  relation  to  the  Idea  was  the  freeing  of  the 
individual  in  Protestantism,  and  this  came  best  to  human 
consciousness  in  Shakespeare's  dramas.  Here  the  dramatic 
discussion,  or  the  tragic  dualism  is  in  the  individual  alone — 
a  very  doubtful  statement,  which  seems  to  have  become 
orthodox  among  Hebbel  critics. 

Only  one  other  attitude  to  the  Idea  is  possible,  and  that 
is,  to  place  the  tragic  dualism  in  the  Idea  itself,  or,  as  the 
poet  says,  in  that  phase  of  the  Idea  which  is  presented  to 


Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama        113 

us.  By  that  he  means  "the  existing  institutions  of  human 
society,  political,  religious  and  moral."  These  institutions 
represent  the  Idea,  they  symbolize  the  moral  order  of  the 
Universe.  They  are  the  Idea  in  phenomenal  form,  and  this 
phenomenal  form  may  become  problematical,  and  produce 
tragedy  by  its  very  mode  of  existence.  The  tragedy  will 
then  appear  as  a  criticism  of  that  particular  form  of  the 
Idea.  Thus,  in  his  peculiar  way,  Hebbel  laid  the  founda- 
tion for  a  drama  of  social  criticism,  or  a  drama  of  social 
evolution.  But  this  drama  was  not  to  descend  to  the  par- 
ticularity of  a  program,  and  it  was  to  be  essentially  con- 
servative. \  Hebbel  believed  that  his  time  was  in  the  throes 
of  a  great  spiritual  revolution,  he  believed  the  drama  should 
mirror  this  revolution.  And  yet  his  attitude  was  conserva- 
tive. "The  man  of  this  century,"  he  says,  "does  not  want 
new  and  unheard  of  institutions,  as  he  has  been  reproached 
with.  He  only  wants  a  better  foundation  for  those  he  has. 
He  wants  to  see  them  rest  on  nothing  but  morality  and 
necessity,  which  are  identical." 

But  Hebbel  made  skilful  use  of  his  new  point  of  view 
for  another  important  purpose — that  of  defending  t}ie 
drama  against  Hegel.  The  question  at  issue  was  that  the 
poet  saw  in  poetry  the  highest  interpretation  of  life,  while 
the  philosopher,  admitting  that  poetry  had  once  occupied 
that  lofty  position,  claimed  that  philosophy  had  now  taken 
its  place.  As  is  well  known,  Hegel  interpreted  life  as  a 
logical  process..  The  discovery  of  the  contradiction  con- 
tained in  every  proposition  is  the  road  to  a  higher  truth. 
We  first  have  the  thesis,  the  contradiction  to  this  is  the 
antithesis,  and  the  higher  resultant  truth  is  the  synthesis. 
This  synthesis,  in  turn,  becomes  a  new  thesis,  and  the 
infinite  process  is  continued.  This  process  is  common  to 
life  and  logic.  And  through  this  process  the  Idea  attains 
an  ever  greater  degree  of  self-consciousness  in  man. 

When  Hebbel  speaks  of  "debating  the  justification  of 
the  Idea"  (Diary,  Nov.,  1843),  or  of  showing  that  the 
contradiction  is  in  the  Idea  itself  (Preface),  he  is  applying 
Hegel's  famous  method  to  the  tragedy.  That  is,  taking 
life  as  an  evolution  in  Hegel's  own  sense,  he  asserts  that  it 


114         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbci 

is  a  tragical,  rather  than  a  logical,  process.  It  can  be 
symbolized  in  tragedy,  but  it  has  never  been  clearly  con- 
ceived in  philosophy.  From  this  point  he  goes  over  to  an 
attack  on  philosophy,  particularly  wherever  it  attempts  to 
subordinate  art.  In  this  way  Hebbel  turned  Hegel's 
weapons  against  Hegel. 

The  connection  between  this  Preface  and  the  drama  it 
was  to  introduce,  Mary  Magdalene,  is  now  plain.  Mary 
Magdalene,  though  in  no  narrow  sense,  is  a  drama  of  social 
criticism.  The  social  order  which  it  portrays  is  bankrupt. 
The  accepted  representative  of  family  and  church,  as  then 
and  there  existing,  stands  at  the  end  with  the  confession  on 
his  lips :  I  no  longer  understand  the  world.  The  contradic- 
tion in  the  Idea  has  been  shown,  and  we  know  that  a  social 
order  consisting  of  such  self-destructive  elements  can  no 
longer  endure.  The  dramatist's  task  ends  here.  He  shows 
us  no  synthesis.  The  new  order  barely  shimmers  in  the 
dying  words  of  the  Secretary.  Its  actual  constitution 
must  be  entrusted  to  the  future.  It  cannot  be  said  that 
Hebbel  claimed,  in  Mary  Magdalene,  to  have  established  the 
epoch-making  drama  of  the  new  era,  but  it  also  cannot  be 
denied  that  he  at  least  hoped  to  have  shown  the  way. 

Now  that  we  have  an  outline  of  Hebbel's  thought,  we 
may  enquire  into  the  relation  between  that  and  the  philos- 
ophy of  his  times.  All  shades  of  opinions  are  held  among 
German  critics  as  to  the  degree  of  his  dependence  or  inde- 
pendence. He  himself  was  a  stout  defender  of  his  original- 
ity in  every  particular,  asserting  that  after  his  twenty- 
second  year  he  had  not  added  to  his  stock  of  (organic) 
ideas.  He  ridiculed  that  view  which  would  refer  all  creative 
thought  to  some  outside  source,  and  declared  it  to  be  doubt- 
ful whether  we  ever  adopt  any  thought  not  already  poten- 
tially in  our  own  minds.  Perhaps  the  most  questionable 
feature  of  the  case  is  his  over-sensitiveness.  It  has  been 
clearly  established  that,  in  several  instances,  he  attempted 
to  cover  up  the  traces  of  his  reading  in  order  to  avoid  any 
suspicion  of  borrowing.  This  was  entirely  unnecessary,  as 
the  originality  of  his  mind  is  undeniable. 

It  seems  true,  as  we  have  seen  already,  that  the  basis 


Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama  5 

of  Hebbel's  thinking  was  his  own  experience,  and  hence 
essentially  original.  But  that  he  elevated  this  experience 
into  the  realm  of  metaphysics  and  escaped  influence  by  the 
greatest  speculative  thinkers  since  the  Greeks,  is  incon- 
ceivable. He  came  into  direct  touch  with  these  systems  of 
thought  in  Munich.  There  he  heard  the  later,  the  theo- 
sophical  Schelling,  and  according  to  Kuh  was  unpleasantly 
affected  by  his  mystical  omniscience  and  his  ceremonial  atti- 
tudes. Certain  entries  in  his  Diary,  however,  show  traces 
of  these  lectures,  such  as  his  reflections  on  mythology  as  a 
connecting  link  between  philosophy  and  religion,  and  phi- 
losophy and  poetry.  But  he  also  read  the  writings  of  the 
earlier  Schelling.  It  has  been  widely  assumed  that  he 
found  in  them  ideas  long  since  expressed  by  him  in  certain 
poems  composed  between  the  years  1832  and  1836;  particu- 
larly, existence  conceived  of  as  a  state  of  punishment,  in 
that  it  is  a  separation  from  the  world-soul,  a  sad  state  of 
isolation  to  be  terminated  by  death.  The  same  idea  is 
contained  in  the  long  poem  of  consolation,  written  from 
Paris  to  Elise  Lensing,  upon  the  death  of  their  child.  This 
poem,  as  we  have  seen,  suggests  two  entirely  different  ex- 
planations of  the  so-called  isolation,  though  the  fact  itself 
with  its  unfortunate  results,  is  not  questioned.  Hebbel 
also  believed  that,  before  having  so  much  as  heard 
Schelling's  name,  he  had  written  poetry  embodying  what 
he  called  "Schelling's  principle."  It  has  been  fairly  well 
established,  however,  by  Zincke  that  only  the  most  general 
similarity,  if  any,  can  be  found  between  Schelling's  and 
Hebbel's  ideas,  and  that  the  ideas  attributed  to  Schelling 
in  the  whole  discussion  are  very  different  from  those  he 
really  held.  Hebbel's  naive  philosophy  is  not  comparable 
to  the  highly  differentiated  and  complex  system  of  Schelling, 
and  the  distinction  is  clearly  seen  when  it  comes  to  precise 
philosophical  formulation  of  ideas.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
seems  likely,  that  Zincke  has  gone  too  far  in  denying  any 
similarity  between  the  poet  and  the  philosopher  in  their 
conception  of  the  function  of  art.  Hebbel's  views  on  this 
question  are  not  so  narrowly  esthetic  as  Zincke  would  have 
us  believe.     Like  Schelling  he  held  to  the  absolute  valuation 


J  The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

of  art  as  a  revelation  of  the  Infinite  in  finite  form,  as  the 
test  a£d  touchstone,  yes  the  realization  of  philosophy. 
And  in  Schelling's  writings  he  found  his  own  view  confirmed, 
that  the  act  of  poetic  creation  unites  in  itself,  at  one  and 
the  same  time,  conscious  and  unconscious  operations  of  the 
mind.  Some  similarity,  also,  has  been  discovered  between 
Hebbel's  belief,  that  the  freedom  of  the  individual  consists 
in  his  insight  into  the  wisdom  of  the  inevitable,  that  this 
insight  is  the  only  possible  "reconciliation"  in  tragedy,  and 
Schelling's  teaching  on  freedom  and  necessity. 

Hebbel  also  read  while  in  Munich  some  of  the  writings 
of  Solger,  including  those  in  which  Solger  makes  a  practical 
application  of  his  esthetic  principles  to  the  Greek  drama. 
Here  the  essential  tragic  conflict  is  found  between  individual 
and  racial  will,  the  racial  will,  in  its  ideal  aspects,  mirroring 
the  Eternal  in  the  form  of  laws.  It  is  significant  that 
Hebbel  supports  his  theory  on  Sophocles,  and  even  more 
significant  that  the  atmosphere  of  his  tragedy  is  antique  in 
its  exalted  severity.  Solger,  like  Schelling,  confirmed  him 
in  his  high  valuation  of  art,  even  going  further  with  Hebbel 
in  regarding  the  poet  as  a  prophet  burdened  with  a  divine 
message  which  he  must  proclaim,  whether  he  will  or  not. 
The  poetic  imagination  is  conceived  as  a  direct  revelation  of 
the  Universal.  Solger  also  taught  that  tragedy  and  comedy 
have  a  common  origin,  and  he  set  up  the  distinction  between 
the  ancient  and  the  modern  drama  to  which  Hebbel  holds 
in  his  Preface-  Finally,  Hebbel's  idea  of  reconciliation  is 
strikingly  similar  to  Solger's  statement  of  the  result  of  a 
tragic  action.  All  art  gives  the  Idea  in  finite  form,  but  is 
at  the  same  time  its  destruction  as  pure  form.  By  the 
destruction  in  turn  of  the  finite  form  the  pure  form  is  re- 
stored. "In  tragedy  by  the  destruction^^  tt^  individual 
form^the  tcTea  is  revealed"""H^existing,  for  by  doing  away 
,wjth_its_particular  manifestation  it  is  present  _as_JjW,!l 
This  is  HebbePs  lightning  flash  that  consumes  in  the  same 
moment  it  reveals.  Thus  we  may  say  that  from  a  concrete 
point  of  view,  Hebbel  found  more  in  Solger  than  in 
Schelling,  and  he  later  referred  to  him  with  warmth  as  the 
teacher  of  his  youth. 


Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama        117 

It  is  generally  admitted  that  Hebbel's  views  are  more 
closety  related  to  the  philosophy  of  Hegel  than  to  any 
other.  While  in  Munich  he  became  acquainted,  probably, 
with  the  Philosophy  of  History,  and  attempted,  as  he  says 
without  success,  to  penetrate  the  Phenomenology  and  the 
Logic.  In  Copenhagen  he  read  the  Esthetic,  and  while  in 
Paris,  as  we  know,  he  associated  intimately  with  the  Hege- 
lian, Bamberg.  Hebbel  borrows  the  use  of  the  term  Idea 
^Pp£tffcftlly,  irom  Hegel,  and  he  also  holds  the  same  view  of 
tragic,  guilt  as  the  necessary  conflict  between  justifiable 
forces..  Only  he  places  the  conflict  between  individual  and 
Idea,  whereas  Hegel  places  it  between  two  elements  of 
society,  each  representing  the  Idea,  as  for  example  between 
the  elements  of  family  and  state  in  Antigone.  And  we  have 
already  seen  how  Hebbel  adopted  Hegel's  own  basis  and 
method  of  reasoning  and  applied  it  to  the  new  drama  he 
proclaimed,  in  order  to  place  his  chosen  art  at  the  very 
pinnacle  of  the  manifestations  of  the  spirit. 

From  the  entire  foregoing  discussion  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  Hebbel  spoke  the  vocabulary  of  his  times.  His  use  of 
the  Idea,  the  Universal,  the  Individual,  of  the  conflict  be- 
tween these  elements,  of  tragic  guilt,  and  so  forth,  reminds 
us  instantly  of  the  thinkers  by  whom  he  was  surrounded. 
And  we  shall  see  later  that  his  conception  of  the  State,  as 
embodied  in  theory  and  practice,  connects  him  equally  as 
well  with  his  generation.  Therefore  it  has  been  asserted, 
on  the  basis  of  extended  investigation,  that  Hebbel's  entire 
system  of  "criticism  and  esthetics  is  a  selection,  a  rounding 
out,  and  an  occasional  deepening,  of  problems  of  his  time, 
undertaken  by  a  philosophical  nature."  The  writer  of 
these  words,  however,  also  says  that  these  problems  have 
been  kept  alive  by  Hebbel,  that  is,  he  is  the  center  of  the 
animated  discussion  carried  on  about  them  at  the  present 
time.     But  for  him  and  his  works  they  would  be  forgotten. 

There  are  a  number  of  careful  interpretations  of 
Hebbel's  dramatic  theory  in  German.  Perhaps  the  most 
representative  of  them  have  been  written  by  Arno  Scheunert 
and  0.  F.  Walzel,  in  their  works  as  already  cited.  Walzel 
confines  his  discussion  more  to  the  drama,  while  Scheunert 


118         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

sets  up  a  complete  system  of  thought  drawn  from  Hebbel's 
Work,  Letters  and  Diary.  This  was  the  first  attempt  to 
establish  a  general  system  for  Hebbel,  and  it  still  remains 
the    most    extensive.     The    underlying    principle    of    this 

}  system  is  Hebbel's  pantragic  view  of  life,  which,  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  individual,  is  gloomy  and  hopeless  in  the 
extreme.  It  leads  us  into  that  despairing  and  pessimistic 
atmosphere  which  seems,  in  the  words  of  the  poet  himself, 
to  indicate  the  emptiness  of  all  individual  existence.  This 
would  form  the  main  structure  of  the  poet's  philosophy,  and 
result  as  the  necessary  impression  from  his  tragedies, 
naively  viewed.  Only  by  occupying  his  metaphysical  point 
of  view  could  we  draw  a  certain  chill  comfort  from  the 
prospects  of  a  reunion  with  the  Idea. 

There  is  a  truth  in  Scheunert's  presentation  that  it  is 
useless  to  deny.  We  have  seen  that  Hebbel  realized  his  own 
pessimism,  which  at  times,  especially  at  the  beginning  of  hif 
career,  reduced  him  to  despair.  Those  who  attempt  to 
argue  away  this  pessimism  set  themselves  a  hard  task.  But 
it  is  equally  true,  that  as  he  grew  older  he  became  less 
pessimistic.  This  is  perfectly  plain  in  his  experience  and 
in  his  works.  Scheunert  holds  too  severely  to  the  pessi- 
mistic tone  throughout  Hebbel's  productions.  He  admits  in 
him  no  change,  no  development  as  a  thinker,  confining  his 
development  only  to  a  freer  poetic  use  of  his  philosophical 
ideas.  But  we  know  that  Hebbel  gradually  lost  faith  in 
speculation,  that  he  turned  more  and  more  to  the  practice 
of  his  art  as  his  sole  comfort.  And  here  lies  the  trouble 
with  Scheunert's  system — it  constructs  the  poet  out  of  the 
metaphysician,  instead  of  the  metaphysician  out  of  the 
poet.  This  is  why  he  must  protest  against  putting  the 
poet  Hebbel  in  the  foreground  where  he  certainly  belongs, 
and  this  explains  how  he  could  describe  Hebbel's  tragic 
characters  as  grafts  upon  the  tree  of  his  metaphysics. 
For  him  Hebbel  begins  and  ends  as  the  poet  not  of  life  but 
of  absolute  philosophy. 

Walzel's  object  is  to  free  Hebbel  from  this  reproach  of 
metaphysical  dogmatism,  to  re-establish  him  as  a  poet.  He 
sees  in  him  a  decided  development  in  the  direction  of  a  more 


Two  Essays  on  the  Theory  of  the  Drama  119 

conciliatory  view  of  life.  Hebbel  began  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  "critical  relation"  between  the  individual  and  the  Idea, 
like  Solger ;  and,  like  Solger,  he  finds  that  reconciliation  is  in 
the  interest  of  the  Idea.  This  leads  him  to  the  view  that  the 
individual  is  sacrificed  in  order  that  the  species  may  live  on  in 
better  form.  And  here  he  can  apply  Hegel's  evolutionary 
teaching  directly  to  the  tragedy.  Later,  and  here  Walzel 
adopts  the  conclusions  reached  by  Anna  Schapire,  the  poet 
repudiated  his  Preface,  and  indeed  gave  up  all  metaphysical 
speculation.  As  the  basis  of  his  tragedy,  however,  accord- 
ing to  Walzel,  he  retained  the  conflict  between  the  individual  \ 
and  the  Universal,  and  the  evolutionary  solution  of  the 
conflict.  The  individual  perishes^pr  a^cause  that  will  }  ' 
suryjy^e.     He  is  a  martyr  tothe  future. 

Hn  so  far  as  this  theory  is  supposed  to  be  abstracted 
from  Hebbel's  later  works,  and  therefore  of  course  to  be 
applicable  to  them,  it  often  does  violence  to  their  spirit. 
When  thus  used,  it  is,  like  Scheunert's  system,  a  dogmatism 
— a  better,  no  doubt,  but  a  dogmatism  none  the  less. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE     TURNING     POINT  !        PARIS,     ITALY,     VIENNA. 

THE  account  of  Hebbel's  outward  life  in  Paris  may  be 
disposed  of  briefly.  It  is  the  same  story  of  poverty. 
He  had,  of  course,  to  provide  for  the  support  of  Elise,  and 
a  second  son,  who  was  born  in  May,  1844,  and  whom  Hebbel 
never  saw.  He  could  not  attend  theaters  and  concerts, 
nor  even  buy  decent  clothes,  food,  and  fuel.  He  knew  little 
French,  met  none  of  the  French  celebrities,  and  in  fact 
seems  to  have  come  in  slight  contact  with  French  people. 
Heine  he  met,  but  in  spite  of  some  things  in  common  the  two 
men  formed  no  real  friendship.  The  socialist,  Arnold  Ruge, 
who  gave  him  some  insight  into  the  world  of  Marx  and 
Engels,  only  tended  in  conversation  to  confirm  him  in  his 
belief  that  the  socialistic  movement  was  wrong.  He  placed 
all  progress  in  the  individual,  not  in  the  masses.  The 
street  life  in  Paris,  the  public  parades,  the  carnivals,  and 
the  fairs,  whatever  cost  nothing,  Hebbel  enjoyed  fully. 
French  vivacity  and  naivete,  in  striking  contrast  with  his 
phlegmatic  North,  was  for  him  an  excellent  counterpoise  to 
metaphysics.  Like  a  breath  of  fresh  air  it  runs  through 
his  Diary,  that  life  is  the  main  thing  after  all.  It  is  that 
which  makes  him  place  the  paintings  of  Vernet  above  those 
of  Cornelius,  it  is  that  which  he  means  to  strive  for  in  his 
own  works  from  now  on.  There  is  noticeable  in  him  a  dis- 
tinct growth  in  his  literary  consciousness. 

This  literary  consciousness  becomes  keener  in  Paris. 
The  opportunity  he  had  there  of  surveying  the  world's  art 
gave  him  a  broader  view  of  life  as  a  whole  than  he  had  ever 
had  before.  He  began  to  examine  himself  in  relation  to 
that.  Already  he  had  given  proofs  of  his  powers,  "but  the 
fruits,"  he  said,  "are  bitter.  I  myself  can  detect  in  their 
taste  the  stony  ground  on  which  they  grew.  And  I  fear 
that  this  will  cheat  me  of  the  last  result  of  my  wretched 

120 


The  Turning  Point!  121 

existence,  a  healthy  and  really  significant  poetic  production. 
The  affectation  of  Weltschmerz,  no  matter  what  air  it 
assumes,  is  nothing  and  has  no  more  truth  and  significance 
than  a  feverish  illusion,  whether  it  appears  in  Lord  Byron, 
or  in  me,  or  anywhere  else.  Ah  and  Alas  and  O  are  not 
music."  He  is  determined  that  his  future  dramas  shall  show 
less  personal  bitterness,  more  of  the  overflowing,  abundance 
of  life.  And  yet  he  does  not  forget  to  add  that  they  must 
preserve  the  same  fundamental  basis  as  before.  We  see  the 
poet  struggling  hard  with  the  philosopher  in  him.  In  this 
same  mood  he  resolves  not  to  send  off  Schnock  for  publica- 
tion. It  was  not  good  enough  for  him.  "Well  drawn,"  he  says, 
"but  what  a  face!"  What  we  see  taking  place  in  Hebbel  is 
the  preparation  for  a  higher  sphere  of  art. 

During  this  year  in  Paris  Hebbel' s  relation  to  Elise 
Lensing  reached  a  crisis,  within  him  at  least,  if  not  to  out- 
ward appearances.  Upon  the  death  of  their  first  boy, 
Max,  temporarily  overwhelmed  by  his  own  grief  and  Elise's 
despair,  he  wrote  her  letters  full  of  tenderness,  letters  that 
recognized  unreservedly  what  she  had  been  to  him.  He 
suffered  agonies  when  her  life  seemed  to  be  endangered.  He 
offered  to  return  to  Hamburg,  he  thought  of  having  her 
come  to  Paris,  he  gave  her  the  most  sacred  assurances  that 
he  would  marry  her  whenever  his  circumstances  would  allow 
it.  There  is  no  doubt  that  he  was  sincere  in  all  these 
letters.  They  show  that  on  their  face.  It  cut  him  to  the 
quick  that  Elise  had  to  suffer  from  gossip,  or  be  treated 
with  indignity.  He  spoke  of  her  in  his  letters  as  his  wife, 
addressed  many  letters  to  Frau  Doctor  Hebbel,  and 
welcomed  her  suggestion,  that  they  claim  to  have  been 
united  secretly.  He  regards  her  as  his  wife  in  conscience,  and 
consoles  her  with  an  illustrious  line  of  men  who  had  despised 
the  legal  forms  of  marriage — Hegel,  Goethe,  Thorwaldsen, 
and  Hamann;  the  last,  he  adds,  even  being  an  orthodox 
Christian.  He  knew  that  Elise  valued  this  orthodoxy  if  he 
did  not. 

But  this  mood  in  him  gradually  changed.  If  he  had 
ever  loved  Elise  he  no  longer  loved  her.  That  would  not 
have  stood  in  his  way,  however.     Marriage  without  love  he 


122         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

would  have  risked  if  he  had  had  the  means  of  living.  But  he 
was  actually  and  continually  in  danger  of  starving.  In  cold 
weather  he  had  to  go  to  bed  to  keep  warm.  The  only  money 
he  had  had  been  given  him  so  that  he  might  travel.  In  one 
more  year  he  would  be  deprived  of  that  last  source  of  income. 
His  friends  urged  him  to  obtain  a  professorship.  But  his 
friends,  he  bitterly  remarked,  were  laboring  under  the  two- 
fold delusion  that  Elise  had  money,  and  he,  learning. 
With  his  haphazard  education  he  made  no  pretense  of  being 
a  scholar.  "If  I  could  be  allowed  to  form  them  slowly  in 
the  depths  of  my  spirit,  I  might  be  able  to  write  six  or  seven 
dramas  more,  but  I  cannot  work  up  lectures."  Or  why  not 
take  over  the  editorship  of  the  Telegraph?  Gutzkow  had 
given  it  up,  and  Campe  hinted  that  Hebbel  would  be  ac- 
ceptable as  his  successor.  But  here  again  he  was  the  slave 
of  his  genius.  How  could  he  fill  up  long  columns  weekly? 
How  could  he  form  the  literary  connections  and  gain  the 
support  necessary  for  the  undertaking?  He  knew  that  he 
could  not.  He  could  not  even  follow  the  plain  hint  of  his 
friend,  Oehlenschlager,  to  review  his  dramas  in  Germany, 
because  he  did  not  believe  in  them. 

We  should  not  forget  that  Hebbel  was  thus  helpless 
under  the  pressure  of  his  inner  soul.  The  only  thing  which 
that  commanded  him  to  do,  no  one  seemed  to  want.  He  be- 
lieved, indeed,  that  it  would  gain  him  immortality,  "a  place 
on  the  cross"  along  with  his  predecessors.  But  the  im- 
mediate question  facing  him  was  much  simpler:  How  keep 
from  starving?  Under  these  circumstances  he  began  to 
grow  impatient  with  Elise's  repeated  suggestions  that  he 
return  to  Hamburg  and  settle  down  with  her.  Again  and 
again  he  explains  his  whole  situation  to  her  carefully,  and 
a  wave  of  anger  sweeps  over  him  when  her  insistence  recom- 
mences. Gradually  he  begins  to  get  the  conception  of  love 
to  which  later  in  Rome  he  gives  clear  expression.  After  all 
it  is  entirely  selfish.  Elise's  sacrifice,  which  had  drawn 
from  him  such  fervent  praise  and  so  deep  an  admiration, 
now  seems  but  a  phase  of  her  effort,  unconscious,  of  course, 
to  secure  the  desired  possession.  She  appears  now  to  con- 
sider herself  more  than  she  does  him.     He  does  not  blame 


The  Turning  Pomti  123 

her  for  this.  He  accepts  it  as  a  fact  in  life,  but  it  leaves 
him  freer  to  act  for  his  own  salvation.  This  feeling  in  him 
was  well  defined  when  he  left  Paris,  and  it  is  more  and  more 
in  evidence  in  the  letters  written  from  Italy. 

With  the  assistance  of  the  elder  Rousseau,  Hebbel, 
before  leaving  for  Italy,  was  enabled  to  secure  the  degree 
of  doctor  of  philosophy  from  the  University  of  Erlangen — 
that  is,  in  all  except  the  name,  about  which  he  was  chiefly 
concerned.  Unable  to  pay  some  of  the  necessary  expenses 
at  last,  he  was  compelled  to  wait  several  years  longer  for 
the  formal  installment  into  the  title.  His  dissertation  was 
on  the  theory  of  the  drama.  It  has  been  lost,  but  was  com- 
pounded, according  to  Kuh,  from  the  two  essays  above  dis- 
cussed. He  valued  his  new  attainment  highly  as  one  of 
those  externals  to  which  he  had  seen  the  world  attach  such 
importance,  whether  clothes,  manners,  or  titles. 

Letters  had  come  to  him  in  Paris  from  Oehlenschlager, 
advising  against  his  marriage,  and  hinting  that  he  should 
continue  his  travels.  In  any  case  the  extension  of  the  al- 
lowance he  had  been  receiving  from  Denmark  was  doubtful, 
and  much  more  than  doubtful  should  he  remain  longer  in 
one  place.  Accordingly,  in  September,  1844,  he  left  Paris 
for  Rome.  His  prospects  seemed  to  be  growing  darker 
instead  of  brighter.  The  increase  of  his  literary  reputa- 
tion had  not  been  considerable.  In  one  sense  Mary  Mag- 
dalene was  another  disappointment,  and  the  Preface 
hindered  rather  than  aided  a  wider  comprehension  of  his 
intentions.  He  was  still  in  a  position  where  small  favors, 
such  as  the  inclusion  of  poems  by  him  in  Goedeke's  anthol- 
ogy of  German  poets  from  1813  to  1845  appeared  to  him 
as  an  event,  and  he  could  still  write  bitterly  that  he  counted 
not  a  single  friend  among  "the  little  men  that  make  the 
great,"  that  is  the  reviewers.  This  was  all  very  different 
from  what  he  had  expected  back  in  Copenhagen  when  he 
wrote  those  letters  to  Janinski  about  his  changed  attitude 
to  life. 

Hebbel  reached  Rome  in  the  autumn  of  1844.  His 
money,  even  with  the  extreme  care  he  was  accustomed  to 
exercise,  could  not  last  more  than  a  few  months  longer.    To 


124         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

his  application  in  Copenhagen  for  an  extension  of  the 
allowance,  the  answer  was  slow  in  coming,  and  then  it 
brought  him  only  the  price  of  his  trip  back  to  Germany. 
Dire  necessity  conquered  his  pride  and  anger,  forcing  him 
to  retain  what  he  considered  as  an  insulting  pittance.  For 
economy's  sake  he  took  a  room  where  the  sun  never  shone, 
thus  exposing  himself  to  disease,  which  soon  put  in  appear- 
ance. Narrowly  escaping  the  dangerous  typhus  fever,  he 
was  finally  induced  by  a  friend  to  take  better  quarters. 
This  friend  was  the  landscape  painter,  Louis  Gurlitt,  who 
later,  in  the  most  delicate  manner,  forced  on  the  penniless 
poet  a  considerable  loan  of  money.  In  Rome  Hebbel's 
circle  of  friends  was  larger  than  it  had  ever  been  before. 
Most  of  the  men  he  met  were  German  artists,  and  here, 
practically  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  conversed  freely 
with  many  men  and  on  subjects  appropriate  to  his  natural 
sphere.  Robert  Kolbenheier,  an  amateur  painter,  has  left 
an  interesting  description  of  Hebbel's  personal  appearance 
and  impression  at  this  time.  Especially  does  he  mention 
with  admiration  the  power  and  wealth  of  the  poet's  elo- 
quence, the  abundance  of  his  ideas,  the  force  and  beauty  of 
his  imagery  in  conversation.  In  a  half  hour,  and  as  if  it 
were  by  the  way,  Hebbel,  he  says,  would  display  an  intensity 
of  thought  that  would  have  served  most  men  a  life-time. 

But  for  all  that  was  so  painful  in  his  circumstances 
Hebbel  would  have  been  very  happy  in  Rome.  He  succeeded 
much  better  with  Italian  than  with  French,  perhaps  because 
he  approached  the  study  of  it  in  a  more  practical  way. 
Honor  was  accorded  him  as  was  his  due.  In  spite  of  his 
pessimism  he  found  that  his  reputation  was  growing.  A 
new  critical  journal  in  Berlin  (the  Modespiegel)  had  spoken 
of  his  Mary  Magdalene  with  the  highest  admiration,  at  the 
same  time  demanding  that  it  be  given  on  the  stage.  Various 
German  travelers  thought  it  worth  their  while  to  visit  him  in 
Rome,  among  them  such  young  men  as  Hermann  Hettner 
and  Theodor  Mommsen.  He  enjoyed  the  street  life,  the 
carnivals,  the  museums,  the  public  buildings.  Elise's  warnings 
of  the  jealousy  of  Italian  men,  however,  or  her  own  jealousy 
of    the   beautiful    Gagiati,    who    seemed    inclined    to    favor 


The  Turning  Point!  125 

Hebbel,  were  needless.  How  could  a  man  pursue  such 
advantages  when  the  sleeves  of  his  coat — and  that  borrowed 
from  Gurlitt — failed  to  reach  his  wrists?  In  spite  of  his 
desperate  effort  to  keep  up  appearances,  the  poet  was  so 
threadbare  that  his  ill-wishers  made  him  an  object  of  their 
ridicule.  Whenever  Gurlitt  would  propose  that  they  go 
out  and  dine  together,  Hebbel's  invariable  answer  was  that 
he  had  already  dined. 

In  Italy  Hebbel's  life,  both  in  its  inner  and  outer 
aspects,  tended  to  a  more  definite  shape,  though  the  gloom 
which  enveloped  him  did  not  brighten  in  the  least,  but 
rather  seemed  to  become  heavier  as  he  looked  into  the  future. 
His  decision  not  to  marry  Elise  was  definitely  taken  there. 
If  Paris  had  aroused  his  sensibilities  to  the  value  of  life, 
Italy  was  not  likely  to  dull  them  by  abstract  conventions 
of  duty.  In  the  midst  of  beauty  he  writes  to  Elise :  "Perish 
what  is  not  beautiful !"  He  still  affirms  his  deep  apprecia- 
tion of  what  she  has  been  to  him,  he  still  declares  that  she  is 
the  noblest  spirited  woman  living,  still  comprehends  the 
tragedy  of  her  situation  as  fully  as  that  of  his  own.  But 
his  letters,  with  the  reflex  they  show  of  hers,  indicate  that 
both  have  grown  sensitive  and  irritable.  He  writes  her 
that  she  has  had  nothing  but  unpleasant  things  to  tell  him 
since  he  left  Hamburg,  that  she  seems  to  think  only  of  her 
happiness  and  never  of  his.  It  vexes  him  when  she  speaks 
of  his  "happy  days  in  Rome,"  as  if  he  could  be  happy !  Or 
when  she  calls  him  melancholy,  as  if  his  wretchedness  were  a 
quality  of  his  soul !  Even  such  little  things  as  her  frequent 
appeals  an  den  lieben  Gott,  arouse  his  resentment  as  pious 
and  empty  phrases.  And  when  he  discovers  that,  she  has 
announced  herself  to  Campe  as  his  wife,  and  even  written  to 
officials  in  Copenhagen  in  that  capacity,  he  does  not  with- 
hold his  anger.  He  tells  her  definitely — what  he  had  often 
indicated — that  he  does  not  love  her  as  a  man  should  love 
his  wife.  His  intention  not  to  marry  for  the  present — in 
ten  years,  perhaps,  yes ! — takes  final  form.  A  man,  he 
says,  may  dispose  of  anything,  only  not  of  his  own  person. 
He  enters  in  his  Diary  (February,  1845)  the  significant 
statement,  that  a  man  should  put  aside  whatever  hinders  his 


126         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

development,  since  what  would  destroy  him  would  not  ad- 
vance another. 

Likewise  Hebbel's  relation  to  his  art  underwent,  or  con- 
tinued to  undergo,  an  equally  important  phase.  In  Paris, 
perhaps  in  its  subtle  beginnings  even  in  Copenhagen,  the 
poet  caught,  as  we  have  seen,  a  vision  of  a  more  clarified  and 
harmonious  art,  of  a  form  in  which  personal  and  eccentric 
bitterness  should  have  no  part.  Judging  his  own  works  by 
this  standard,  he  found  in  them  too  many  traces  of  his  own 
individual  conflicts.  Rome  was  the  place  to  accelerate  this 
process  in  him.  Entirely  indifferent  to  the  ruins,  the 
schools  of  art,  to  all  that  interests  the  antiquarian,  he 
yielded  himself  to  the  impressions  made  on  him  by  Michael- 
angelo,  Raphael,  the  classic  works,  and  especially  by  beauti- 
ful women  and  Italian  nature.  "Fullness  of  life  and  great- 
ness of  form,"  such  becomes  his  ideal  in  art,  and  we  shall 
see  with  what  tenacity  he  holds  to  it.  He  begins  to  con- 
trast the  German  language  with  others,  to  ask  what  are 
its  advantages  and  disadvantages.  It  is  not,  he  says,  essen- 
tially euphonious  like  Italian,  it  can  never  be  made  music, 
but  it  is  not  necessarily  discord.  It  has  well-sounding 
words,  and  can  with  great  care  be  moulded  into  beautiful 
verse.  But  above  all  it  possesses  an  unequaled  subtlety  of 
expression.  Scarcely  has  he  made  these  observations,  when 
he  sets  out  to  prove  their  validity  in  his  own  poetry.  As  he 
had  first  found  expression  in  lyric  poetry,  so  now  his  lyric 
poetry  is  the  first  phase  of  his  work  to  embody  his  new  ideal 
of  art.  He  wrote  a  poem  of  over  one  hundred  lines,  en- 
titled, Spring's  Sacrifice.  What  he  had  intended  to  do,  and 
believed  he  had  done  in  this  poem,  can  be  best  told  in  his  own 
words.  It  is  well  to  remember  that  they  are  a  purely 
personal  expression,  occurring  in  a  letter  to  Elise.  "This 
Italian  spring  has  encouraged  me  to  write  a  poem,  which  I 
am  enclosing,  and  in  which,  face  to  face  with  so  fair  a 
world,  I  have  attempted  to  do  whatever  is  possible  in  the 
German  language.  I  have  composed  this  poem  down  to  the 
slightest  detail  with  great  care,  and  set  myself  the  task  not 
only  of  playing  on  the  instrument  of  our  language,  but  of 
tuning  this  instrument  itself  to   a  purer  tone."     He  then 


The  Turning  Point!  127 

proceeds  to  explain  how  he  has  endeavored  to  combine  in  the 
highest  possible  degree  depth  and  tenderness  of  thought 
with  grace,  harmony,  and  purity  of  expression.  He  is 
satisfied  with  the  result.  This  poem,  he  writes,  is  a  sign 
that  "nature,  provided  only  fortune  .  .  .  favors  me,  and 
does  not  let  me  perish  in  poverty  and  misery,  will  yet  some- 
time bestow  on  me  a  highest  favor  .  .  .  that  she  will  hold 
me  worthy  of  her  use  in  expressing  not  only  what  is  sig- 
nificant, but  also  what  is  beautiful.  But  fearful  again  is 
the  ^struggle  of  my  spirit.  I  have  not  come  to  Italy  in  vain. 
I  feel  as  if  I  had  once  more  been  broken  into  the  elements  (of 
my  being),  and  as  if  nature  were  occupied  in  putting  me 
together  anew." 

Hebbel  seems  never  to  have  changed  his  mind  as  to  the 
value  of  this  poem,  which,  as  it  seems  to  the  author,  he  ex- 
aggerated. Its  outward  form  possesses  indeed  the  euphony 
and  melody  he  sought  to  attain,  and  the  idea  may  be  one  of 
depth  and  tenderness,  but  idea  and  form  are  not  always 
happily  joined.  Yet  the  very  idea  itself  would  seem  to  be 
the  sort  of  fancy  which  the  poet,  in  a  letter  to  Bamberg, 
claimed  it  was  not.  He  imagined  that  he  had  observed 
a  sudden  falling  of  blossoms  in  the  spring  not  ascribable 
to  any  motion  of  the  air.  Not  seeking  any  natural  cause 
for  this,  he  attributed  it  to  a  shudder  of  spring  at  its  own 
beauty,  and  this  again  he  explained  as  a  fear  of  punish- 
ment by  higher  powers  for  being  too  fair.  To  avoid  this 
punishment,  spring  makes  a  voluntary  offering  of  its 
beauty.  The  poem  is  thus  a  sort  of  metaphysical  allegory. 
The  personification  of  spring  as  a  beautiful  youth  is  not 
particularly  convincing  in  this  poem;  nor  is  the  attrib- 
uting to  natural  objects  (birds,  trees,  etc.)  personal  feel- 
ings and  movements.  Besides,  as  Morike  observes,  the 
sudden  falling  of  blossoms  together,  to  which  the  poem 
works  up  as  a  climax,  can  scarcely  be  imagined  apart  from 
a  motion  of  the  air.  It  must  be  added,  however,  that  the 
Swabian  poet,  in  spite  of  certain  reservations,  speaks  of 
Spring's  Sacrifice  as  a  charming  and  melodious  work. 

Hebbel's  favorite  forms  were  now  the  two  most  con- 
servative   possible:    the    sonnet    and    the    distichon.     Ten 


128         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

sonnets  and  ninety  epigrams  he  wrote  between  March  8  and 
May  29,  1845.  He  is  not  afraid  of  the  old  bottles  if  he  can 
only  get  the  new  wine.  And  we  find  this  same  attitude  to 
language  clearly  expressed  in  the  lines,  The  German 
Language.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  1;he  genius  of  a 
language,  though  it  binds  the  creative  spirit  by  no  strict 
rules.  It  leaves  room  for  free  movement  and  fresh  charm. 
Like  nature  it  has  endless  springs,  but  in  equally  endless 
variety.  In  expressing  this  view  Hebbel  is  but  saying  in 
another  way  what  he  had  always  said  regarding  the  relation 
between  the  individual  and  the  universal.  His  idea  of  culti- 
vation in  life  is  identical  with  his  conception  of  style  in  art, 
and  beauty  is  for  him  a  guarantee  of  both.  In  that  alone 
can  the  harmony  we  yearn  for  approach  us,  and  that  alone 
seems  to  rest  in  eternal  calm  amid  the  chaos  of  the  sur- 
rounding world.  This  is  nothing  new  that  came  into  his 
spirit,  not  a  passing  mood  awakened  by  the  Juno  Ludovisi 
or  the  Apollo  Belvedere.  He  had  already  written  sonnets 
to  beauty,  and  as  far  back  as  Munich  the  perfect  restraint 
and  harmony  of  Goethe's  Iphigenie  stood  before  his  mind 
as  an  unattainable  ideal.  But  nothing  could  have  been 
better  fitted  than  Italian  art  and  nature  to  accelerate  the 
unfolding  of  his  mind  in  the  direction  inevitable  for  it  from 
the  beginning.  When  Hebbel  was  at  work  on  his  Judith, 
he  rejoiced  in  the  energy  and  unrestraint  of  his  prose,  which 
then  seemed  to  him  so  much  better  a  medium  than  verse. 
For  Genoveva  this  unrestraint  proved  to  be  too  great  a 
restraint,  so  that  he  loosed  his  bolder  imaginings  in  poetry. 
The  superabundance  he  there  showed,  the  excess  of  power 
and  depth,  was  the  very  excess  upon  which,  as  he  says  in  an 
epigram,  beauty  feeds.  To  find  the  balance  between  power 
and  grace,  to  discover  the  freedom  that  form  allows  and  the 
restrictions  it  imposes,  to  develop  a  style  at  once  individual 
and  classical — this  was  the  task  separating  the  works  of 
his  first  period  from  those  of  his  second,  the  task  his  Italian 
experiences  helped  him  accomplish. 

The  time  between  June  and  October  of  1845  Hebbel 
spent  in  Naples,  as  he  records,  the  happiest  months  of  his 
life.     This  trip  was  made  possible  by  a  loan  which  Gurlitt 


The  Turning  Point!  129 

advanced.  There  he  met  the  two  "Sicilian  sisters,"  to 
whom  he  dedicated  some  fine  stanzas.  The  elder  he  pre- 
ferred, happy  to  touch  her  hand,  but  it  was  the  younger  who 
preferred  him.  He  visited  Vesuvius  and  Pompeii,  the  latter, 
apparently,  with  little  interest.  Hermann  Hettner  was  for 
a  time,  at  least,  his  steady  companion  in  walks  and  conversa- 
tion. He  led  a  double  life  as  far  as  his  writing  was 
concerned,  one  southern  and  one  northern ;  the  one  reflected 
in  his  sonnets,  the  other  in  his  dramatic  work.  In  Naples 
he  was  busy  with  his  Moloch,  a  drama  long  since  begun,  and 
in  tone  and  subject  foreign  to  his  present  surroundings. 
Or  else  he  was  engaged  with  the  harassing  idea  of  the 
drama,  Julia. 

His  dwindling  funds  reminded  him  that  he  must  turn 
northward  again.  Rome  would  be  only  a  station  on  his 
journey,  Germany  the  ultimate  goal.  In  many  of  his  re- 
marks we  can  notice  that  the  limit  of  his  suffering  is  almost 
reached.  His  long  apprenticeship  of  failure  and  wretched- 
ness must  come  to  an  end,  or  he  will  be  lost.  He  did  not 
demand  much.  "As  a  poet,"  he  writes,  "I  shall  never  have 
the  slightest  influence  on  the  masses."  This  did  not  dis- 
courage him.  On  the  contrary,  he  expresses  considerable 
contempt  for  the  public.  He  does  not  relish  the  idea  of  his 
poems  being  "snuffed  at  by  ox  and  ass — a  terrible  thought, 
by  Heavens  I"1  But  he  believed  there  was  an  audience  wait- 
ing for  him,  and  he  knew  the  time  had  come  when  he  must 
see  more  of  the  fruits  of  his  work.  He  could  no  longer  be 
content  with  his  bare  and  lonely  existence.  He  would  not 
"sit  in  a  corner  in  Germany."  He  therefore  clearly  states 
that  his  life  must  now  at  last  either  take  an  upward  course 
or  come  to  an  end. 

He  left  Italy  with  misgivings,  wondering  whether  life 
there  had  not  unfitted  him  for  his  native  land.  Public  con- 
ditions in  Germany  were  also  in  a  state  of  unrest  that  would 
render  it  the  more  difficult  for  him  to  obtain  a  hearing  in  his 
chosen  field,  since  he  could  not  write  for  the  passing  hour. 

1  Hebbel,  like  most  people,  was  a  person  of  moods.  He  later  ex- 
pressed the  very  opposite  view  from  this,  at  least  with  reference  to  his 
dramas. 


130         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

He  was  not  only  out  of  funds,  he  was  heavily  in  debt.  All 
signs  were  lacking  that  his  course  was  about  to  lead  him  up- 
ward. On  the  boat  between  Ancona  and  Triest  the  passen- 
gers speculated  as  to  whether  he  had  a  half  or  a  whole  year 
to  live.  He  seems  to  have  had  Berlin  in  view.  The  circum- 
stance that  favorable  notice  of  his  work  had  appeared  in 
the  Vienna  Yearbook,  edited  by  Deinhardtstein,  determined 
him,  however,  to  visit  that  city  on  his  way  northward. 
And  thus,  unwitting,  he  took  the  current  where  it  served. 

Hebbel  arrived  in  Vienna  on  November  8,  1845.  The 
account  of  what  actually  happened  to  him  there  reads  like 
a  romance.  First,  he  went  to  see  Deinhardtstein,  who  had 
spoken  highly  of  his  dramas.  Deinhardtstein  was  en- 
couraging. In  fact  nearly  every  one  was  encouraging. 
August  Frankl2  declares  that  Hebbel  was  deceived  by  the 
affability  of  the  Viennese,  and,  in  the  beginning,  took  people 
too  much  at  their  word.  Deinhardtstein  sent  him  to  Diet- 
richstein,  the  superintendent  of  the  famous  Burgtheater, 
which  since  the  early  part  of  the  century,  the  days  of 
Schreyvogel,  had  been  established  as  the  leading  German 
stage.  Unfortunately  Dietrichstein  had  never  heard  of 
Hebbel,  and  when  this  fact  became  known  in  Vienna,  he 
never  forgave  the  poet  for  his  own  ignorance.  The  inter- 
view was  not  satisfactory,  and  Hebbel  believed  that  the 
literary  battle  was  lost.  He  visited  Grillparzer,  who, 
embittered  by  the  reception  of  his  works,  had  long  since 
turned  his  back  on  the  public.  The  Austrian  dramatist 
was  cordial,  but  silent  concerning  Hebbel's  works,  and 
unable  to  give  him  an  encouraging  report  on  literary  condi- 
tions in  Vienna.  We  know  from  Kulke3  what  impression 
Hebbel  made  on  Grillparzer.  Upon  first  meeting  him,  he 
said  that  only  one  man  could  have  influenced  him,  and  he 
was  dead  (Goethe).  A  year  later,  however,  he  said:  "I 
was  wrong.  Goethe  could  not  have  influenced  him."  Each 
of  these  great  dramatists  respected  the  other,  within  limits, 
but   no    closer    relation    developed   between    them.     Hebbel 


2  Zur  Biographie  Fr.  Hebbels,  Wien,  1884,  p.  5. 

8  Erinnerungen  an  Friedrich  Hebbel,  Wien,  1878,  p.  11. 


The  Turning  Pomt!  131 

also  met-  Friedrich  Halm  (Count  Miinch-Bellinghausen), 
the  author  of  Griseldis  (1834),  Ingomar  the  Barbarian 
(1843),  and  other  much  given  plays.  From  him  also  he 
received  no  substantial  advancement  of  his  purpose,  and  he 
had  now  come  to  think  little  of  verbal  assurances. 

Hebbel  was  deeply  discouraged.  Vienna  apparently 
took  no  notice  of  him.  Then,  unexpectedly,  articles  began 
to  appear  on  him  and  his  work  in  the  Austrian  Morgenblatt. 
They  were  written  by  Siegmund  Englander,  subsequently 
one  of  the  poet's  warmest  youthful  adherents.  It  is  inter- 
esting to  notice  the  tone  of  these  articles  before  and  after 
their  author's  personal  acquaintance  with  Hebbel.  At  first 
Englander  is  objective  and  critical,  though  he  does  not  fail 
to  praise.  Hebbel,  he  says,  is  not  yet  an  artist  but  a  force, 
his  dramas  lack  harmony,  his  characters  are  too  self-con- 
scious, his  language  hasty  and  sketchy.  In  Judith  the  end 
is  bad,  even  Mary  Magdalene  lacks  a  center  of  gravity. 
But  these  works  are  colossal  even  in  their  failure.  They 
show  great  promise  in  the  originality  and  vigor  of  their 
historical  conception,  in  the  force  of  their  characterization, 
in  the  genuineness  of  their  atmosphere.  Hebbel  is,  in  short, 
the  greatest  dramatic  talent  of  the  present.  In  the  third 
article  (December  29,  1845),  which  speaks  of  a  personal 
acquaintance  with  the  poet,  it  is  easy  to  observe  that  the 
young  critic  has  been  overwhelmed  by  the  force  of  Hebbel's 
conversation.  He  retracts  some  of  his  former  objections, 
and  where  he  was  critical  before,  now  he  is  enthusiastic. 
His  ideas  are  plainly  influenced  by  the  poet's  dramatic 
theory,  with  which  we  are  familiar. 

And  now  all  at  once  Hebbel  became  the  center  of  attrac- 
tion. Authors  sought  him  out,  actors  from  the  Burg- 
theater  flocked  about  him,  declaring  themselves  eager  to 
play  the  roles  he  had  created.  If  their  wishes  could  have 
been  realized,  his  goal  would  have  soon  been  reached.  But 
the  iron-clad  Austrian  censorship  stood  in  the  way.  No 
Biblical  material  was  allowed  to  pass,  so  what  chance  was 
there  for  Judith?  The  words  "holy,"  "crucifix,"  and  their 
like  could  not  be  profaned,  so  how  could  the  saintly 
Genoveva  appear  in  Vienna?     Such  a  work  as  Mary  Mag- 


13£         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

dalene  was  entirely  out  of  the  question.  Changes  were 
proposed  in  Hebbel's  works,  which,  as  he  said,  made  his 
hair  stand  on  end.  It  was  still  the  Austria  of  Mettemich, 
where  literature  was  favored  as  a  pleasant  narcotic  to 
prevent  the  people  from  awakening  to  the  demands  of  a  new 
century.  Little  wonder  that  Hebbel  decided  to  continue 
his  journey  to  Berlin. 

His  fortune,  however,  willed  it  otherwise.  Just  as  he 
was  making  arrangements  to  leave,  a  gentleman  slightly 
known  to  him  met  him  by  chance,  and  told  him  of  two 
Galician  barons  who  were  eager  to  make  his  acquaintance. 
Hebbel  named  a  time  and  place  to  meet  them,  and  there  he 
found  an  invitation  to  spend  the  evening  with  them.  He 
was  received  with  embarrassing  enthusiasm.  There  followed 
a  night  of  wild  celebration,  with  declamation  of  passages 
from  Judith  and  Genoveva,  with  wine,  pheasants,  and 
champagne,  in  the  midst  of  which,  the  poet,  being  unable 
to  check  the  superabundant  homage  paid  him,  at  least  took 
good  care  to  eat  and  drink  as  much  as  he  wanted.  "I  had 
to  spend  the  night  there  too,"  he  writes,  "my  precious  life 
could  not  be  exposed  to  the  danger  of  taking  cold,  and  I 
slept  under  damask  covers  with  golden  fringes."  The  name 
of  these  two  dii  ex xmachina  was  Zerboni  di  Sposetti,  and 
the  elder  of  them  thought  and  spoke  of  Hebbel  as  a  modern 
prophet.  He  invited  the  poet  to  visit  him  at  his  castle  in 
Galicia,  and  write  there  at  his  ease.  The  story,  taken 
thus  far  from  Hebbel's  last  extant  letters  to  Elise,  is  con- 
tinued by  Emil  Kuh.  Christmas  evening  Hebbel  celebrated 
with  some  others  at  the  hotel  of  his  new  friends.  They 
compelled  him  to  spend  the  night  there,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing Wilhelm  von  Zerboni  entered  his  room,  bringing  a  new 
suit  of  clothes,  "fell  on  his  knees,  asked  for  pardon,  etc. 
Hebbel  had  gone  to  bed  as  a  poor  poet,  he  got  up  like  a 
fashion  print.  From  necktie  to  shoes,  everything  elegant 
and  modern.  In  addition,  a  splendid  white  overcoat,  a 
silver-headed  cane,  and  other  things  of  that  sort."  From 
this  time  on  he  had  his  rooms  in  the  Archduke  Charles.* 


<  Kuh  II,  166. 


The  Turning  Point!  133 

Thus,  for  the  time  being,  at  least,  Hebbel  had  attained  to 
the  environment  and  clothes  that  make  the  man. 

He  was  now  the  man  of  the  hour  in  Vienna.  The 
younger  writers  especially,  and  quite  erroneously,  saw  in 
the  author  of  Judith  and  Mary  Magdalene  the  standard- 
bearer  of  a  new  storm  and  stress.  At  a  banquet  in  honor 
of  Karl  Egon  Ebert,  scarcely  had  the  first  toast  been  drunk 
to  the  guest  of  honor,  and  before  the  toastmaster  could 
anticipate  them,  these  young  men  arose  and  drank  a  stormy 
toast  to  the  Ditmarsh  poet,  who  was  present.  However 
pleasant  all  these  events  were,  they  alone  could  not  have 
determined  Hebbel  to  remain  in  Austria.  But  Deinhardt- 
stein  now  seemed  to  be  making  earnest  efforts  to  bring  his 
dramas  on  the  stage,  and,  what  was  of  more  vital  impor- 
tance, the  poet  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  an  actress  at 
the  Burgtheater  whom  he  resolved  to  marry.  This  was 
Christine  Enghaus,  then  twenty-nine  years  of  age,  a  good 
actress  and  a  beautiful  woman.  She  had  formerly  acted  in 
Hamburg,  which  city  she  left  for  Vienna  in  1840.  Hebbel's 
dramas,  with  which  she  had  long  been  familiar,  made  a  deep 
impression  on  her.  At  the  Burgtheater  the  parts  she 
would  have  preferred  were  already  monopolized,  chiefly  by 
Madam  Rettich,  a  favorite  of  Friedrich  Halm,  so  that  she 
was  not  altogether  satisfied  with  her  situation. 

The  relation  between  these  two  was  entered  into  with 
frank  confessions  on  both  sides.  Each  had  a  history.  We 
know  Hebbel's.  And  Christine  Enghaus  was  a  mother, 
having  been  loved  and  deserted.  Hebbel  said  that  he  had  a 
hard  struggle  with  himself  at  first,  somewhat  like  the 
Secretary  in  his  drama.  But  he  was  ashamed  to  set  up  a 
moral  demand  that  he  himself  refused  to  meet — at  least, 
such  is  his  own  testimony  in  a  letter  to  Bamberg.  The 
marriage  was  quickly  resolved  upon.  Love  there  was  on 
both  sides — the  subsequent  test  of  life  showed  that — but 
there  were  also  other  considerations  on  both  sides.  Hebbel 
hoped  to  establish  himself  on  a  better  living  basis,  and 
especially  through  Christine  to  force  his  way  on  the  stage. 
He  planned  something  like  a  reform  of  the  stage  with  the 
works  he  would  produce  and  she  interpret.     He  had   the 


134         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

highest  opinion  of  her  art  as  an  actress.  On  her  side, 
apart  from  any  social  considerations,  pity  was  strongly 
mingled  with  love.  She  was  deeply  touched  by  the  neg- 
lected condition  of  the  poet  and  the  evidences  in  his  appear- 
ance of  the  sufferings  through  which  he  had  passed.  The 
marriage  was  solemnized  on  May  26,  1846.  This  step, 
resolved  upon  after  the  fullest  reflection,  Hebbel  always 
asserted  to  have  been  his  salvation.     And  no  doubt  it  was. 

The  letters  that  passed  between  Elise  Lensing  and 
Hebbel  on  this  occasion  were  destroyed  by  Bamberg.  This 
is  not  to  be  regretted.  The  trend  of  their  latter  corre- 
spondence, Hebbel's  letters  to  his  friends,  some  passages 
of  which  we  regret  his  writing,  so  bitter  is  the  tone,  and 
Kuh's  characterization  of  the  lost  letters,  give  us  a  suffi- 
ciently vivid  impression  of  the  harsh  criminations  and 
recriminations  in  which  this  once  noble  relation  terminated. 
A  closer  view  would  be  too  painful.  Elise,  who  had  always 
assured  Hebbel  that  she  would  put  nothing  in  the  way  of  his 
marriage  with  another,  was  utterly  unable  to  face  the  situa- 
tion when  it  arose.  She  held  up  to  the  poet  the  tender 
letters  he  had  once  written  her,  and,  as  he  says,  involved 
herself  in  endless  contradictions.  In  these  despairing 
efforts  we  can  only  understand  her  better  and  pity  her  the 
more.  But  she  even  went  to  the  extent  of  demanding  from 
the  poet,  who  in  that  respect  was  surely  above  reproach, 
a  promise  in  legal  form  to  care  for  his  child.  Hebbel 
could  not  forgive  her  this.  He  declared,  in  his  turn, 
that  such  conduct  released  him  from  the  inward  pangs 
which  he  otherwise  would  have  felt.  Perhaps  he  would  have 
been  glad  indeed  to  be  released  from  those  pangs.  In  this 
difficult  situation  Christine  Enghaus  showed  herself  possessed 
of  the  finest  sympathy.  She  entered  into  Elise's  position, 
and  as  she  comprehended  it  more  fully,  she  often  took  sides 
with  her  against  Hebbel  himself.  It  was  her  pure  humanity 
that  overcame  all  distrust  and  hatred,  thus  making  way 
for  a  friendship  which  was  to  prevent  Elise  from  dragging 
out  her  life  in  bitterness  and  gloom. 

In  Hebbel's  married  life  there  were  certain  differences 
at  the  beginning  that  had  to  be  adjusted.    With  accustomed 


The  Turning  Point!  135 

decision  and  energy  he  took  charge  of  all  financial  affairs, 
consisting  at  first  mainly  of  his  wife's  salary.  What  came  in 
from  his  writings  he  sent  to  Hamburg.  Christine's  rela- 
tions, who  had  enjoyed  her  generosity  hitherto,  did  not 
like  this  change,  of  course.  But  Hebbel  had  debts  and  he 
believed  in  paying  them,  so  he  arranged  a  more  modest  scale 
of  living.  Christine's  patience  was  often  tried,  too,  by  his 
sudden  temper  and  his  imperious  disposition,  though  she 
said  that  his  innate  sense  of  justice,  of  its  own  force,  soon 
corrected  such  outbursts.  Emil  Kuh,  who  furnishes  these 
facts,  describes  her  patience  as  "heroic."  These  differ- 
ences, however,  were  unable  to  affect  the  deeper  basis  on 
which  their  relation  was  founded.  From  now  on  the  bitter- 
ness in  Hebbel's  life  vanishes  more  and  more.  He  faces  the 
denial  of  the  most  modest  wishes  with  an  increasing  calm- 
ness. And  he  gives  his  wife  full  credit  for  the  more 
friendly  aspect  of  his  fate. 


CHAPTER  IX 

the  transition:  two   tragedies,   two  essays,  and 
a  book  of  verse 

DURING  the  autumn  of  1846  and  the  first  months  of 
the  next  year,  Hebbel  practically  completed  two 
dramas,  his  mind  being  occupied  with  material  for  a  third. 
Of  these,  the  Tragedy  in  Sicily,  in  one  act,  may  be  regarded 
as  a  failure.  Hebbel  had  a  characteristic  way  of  recogniz- 
ing his  own  shortcomings,  a  way  in  which  he  always 
managed  to  defend  what  was  defensible  and  explain  what 
was  not.  The  work  itself  he  called  an  unicum,  something  on 
the  dividing  line  between  tragedy  and  comedy.  He  and  his 
friends  gave  it  the  name  of  tragicomedy.  It  is  based  on  a 
story  he  heard  in  Italy  of  two  gensdarmes  who  murder  a 
young  girl  at  the  place  of  meeting  appointed  by  her  lover, 
and  then  seize  him  for  the  murder  when  he  arrives.  A 
thief  nearby  in  hiding  from  the  gensdarmes  sees  the  whole 
occurrence  and  has  them  brought  to  justice.  Hebbel  manip- 
ulated this  story  with  reference  to  two  ideas:  first,  the 
results  when  the  instruments  of  justice  themselves  are 
criminal ;  second,  the  danger  of  accumulated  wealth.  This 
latter  idea  he  grafted  into  the  material  by  an  invention  of 
his  own.  We  have  a  rich  old  podesta  whose  experience  has 
convinced  him  that  he  can  buy  the  exclusive  rights  in  any- 
thing or  anybody.  He  wishes  to  marry  the  beautiful  young 
daughter  of  a  friend,  who  is  sold  to  him  by  virtue  of 
gambling  debts,  and  who  very  unwillingly  consents  to  pay 
his  daughter  on  that  score.  The  daughter  frustrates  this 
plan  by  running  away  from  home  to  marry  the  man  of  her 
own  choice.  Unfortunately  he  comes  too  late  to  the  place 
appointed,  only  to  find  her  murdered.  Two  gensdarmes 
arrest  him  and  accuse  him  of  the  deed.  Willing  to  leave  a 
world  of  such  horrors  he  confesses  the  crime  he  did  not 
commit.     This  causes  one  of  the  gensdarmes  to  believe  that 

136 


The  Transition  137 

the  prisoner  is  insane,  and  fearing  eternal  damnation  should 
he  permit  an  insane  man  to  be  executed,  he  is  about  to  tell 
the  whole  truth.  At  this  moment  the  thief  appears  from 
his  place  of  hiding  to  reveal  what  he  has  seen.  These  events 
occur  all  at  one  place  in  the  woods,  and,  toward  the  end, 
in  the  presence  of  the  podesta  and  the  father,  who  have 
come  out  to  search  for  the  girl. 

The  only  part  of  this  Tragedy  in  Sicily  that  is  done 
with  any  poetic  warmth  whatever,  is  the  opening  scene 
between  the  gensdarmes.  Hebbel  conceived  here  a  very 
striking  situation — a  "couple  of  poltroons,  each  of  whom 
is  ashamed  of  his  cowardice  and  wishes  to  impress  the  other 
when  an  opportunity  presents  itself."  This  idea  is  carried 
out  with  considerable  success.  As  for  the  rest  of  the  work, 
the  most  impressive  thing  is  the  self-characterization  of 
the  old  weasel  of  a  podesta.  The  other  characters  fade 
away  into  nothingness,  and  from  the  play  as  a  whole  we 
turn  away  with  a  shudder,  our  consciousness  dominated  not 
by  any  "idea"  whatever,  but  by  the  picture  of  a  beautiful 
and  innocent  girl  brutally  murdered  in  the  woods.  Hebbel 
intended  again,  as  in  Mary  Magdalene,  to  give  us  a  criti- 
cism of  society;  a  father  selling  his  daughter  to  save  ap- 
pearances, a  podesta,  chosen  to  represent  order  and  himself 
creating  the  greatest  confusion,  a  couple  of  bailiffs  sent  out 
to  arrest  a  thief,  and  themselves  committing  murder.  But 
no  poetic  energy  transfused  these  elements  with  life,  and 
the  criticism,  instead  of  being  burned  into  our  souls  as  in 
the  former  play,  passes  by  with  little  more  emphasis  than 
that  attained  by  a  reporter's  story  in  the  morning  paper. 

Far  above  the  Tragedy  in  Sicily,  and  equally  far  below 
Hebbel's  real  standards,  was  the  other  play  to  which  refer- 
ence has  been  made,  Julia.  This  was  practically  completed 
by  November,  1846,  and  somewhat  before  the  work  just 
described.  It  is  in  three  acts  and  in  prose,  the  scene  being 
laid  in  Italy.  Hebbel  regularly  referred  to  Julia  as  the 
second  part  of  Mary  Magdalene,  and  one  of  the  characters, 
Tobaldi,  is  Master  Anton  under  somewhat  altered  circum- 
stances. To  present  day  readers  the  drama  strongly  sug- 
gests  Ibsen's   Ghosts,    as  has   been   often   said,   and   Count 


138         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

Bertram  is  a  sort  of  Captain  Alving  with  a  (belated)  con- 
science. Even  that,  however,  is  a  considerable  difference. 
Tobaldi,  like  Anton,  is  a  man  of  extreme  rectitude,  who 
pursues  duty  to  the  point  where  it  ceases  to  be  a  virtue. 
His  emotions  are  like  the  fires  of  some  laboring  volcano, 
intermittently  steady,  violent,  and  destructive.  He  has  an 
only  daughter,  the  one  pledge  left  him  by  his  wife,  who 
died  in  the  pangs  of  childbirth.  Gradually,  as  the  girl 
develops  in  beauty  similar  to  her  mother,  the  thought  takes 
hold  of  him  that  his  wife  has  returned  to  him  in  a  different 
shape  and  relation,  a  motive  that  Hebbel  twice  made  use  of 
before,  as  we  have  seen.  He  centers  his  hopes  and  affections 
on  her,  though  in  a  peculiar  way.  There  is  in  him  nothing 
of  the  feminine  which  makes  possible  a  sympathetic  ap- 
proach to  difficult  confessions.  Matters  of  greatest  con- 
cern happen  in  Julia's  life  and  he  has  no  notion  of  them. 
When  one  morning  he  wakes  to  find  her  gone — she  had 
bidden  him  good  night  with  more  than  usual  tenderness — he 
cannot  believe  his  senses.  The  truth  dawns  on  him,  and  Julia 
is  dead  to  him  from  this  time  on.  That  he  may  never  take 
pity  on  her  in  the  future,  he  proclaims  her  dead  of  a  sudden 
and  contagious  disease.  Physician  and  servant,  long 
friends  of  the  family,  he  forces  to  acquiesce  in  his  monstrous 
plan. 

Julia,  in  the  meantime,  has  fled  from  home  to  find  her 
secret  lover,  who  had  failed  to  return  for  her  according  to 
his  promise.  Reaching  his  native  town,  she  wanders  first 
among  the  new-made  graves,  firmly  expecting  to  find  him 
there.  But  neither  among  the  living  nor  the  dead  can  she 
discover  the  object  of  her  search.  She  is  about  to  find  a 
welcome  death  at  the  hands  of  a  villain  whom  her  jewels 
tempt,  when  Count  Bertram  saves  her  life.  Before  this 
Count  Bertram  has  given  us  a  pretty  accurate  account  of 
himself.  Originally  a  man  of  great  ability,  he  has  ruined 
his  health  by  riotous  living.  He  recognizes  this  fully  and 
faces  the  consequences  with  moral  courage.  His  old 
servant  advises  him  to  marry  and  settle  down,  but  he  knows 
that  the  only  real  mesalliance  is  that  between  life  and  death. 
"That,"  he  says,  "is  the  mother  of  ghosts!"     He  does  not 


The  Transition  139 

ask  whether  he  shall  marry,  but  whether  he  has  a  right  to 
die  by  his  own  hands.  Life  means  no  more  to  him,  but 
could  he  not  in  some  way  make  atonement  for  his  profana- 
tion of  life?  Having  destroyed  a  human  being,  himself,  he 
would  like  to  save  some  other  human  being  to  the  world. 

He  thinks  Julia  offers  him  the  chance.  But  Julia  does 
not  want  to  be  saved.  He  is  able  to  discover  her  reason 
for  preferring  death,  and  at  once  offers  himself — not  as  a 
person,  as  a  mere  object  suitable  for  the  formal  ceremony 
— to  be  her  husband.  The  sword  shall  lie  between  them, 
and  if  her  lover  is  found  she  is  free.  For  then  Count 
Bertram  would  have  earned  the  right  to  die.  Julia  does 
not  comprehend  him,  but  she  trusts  his  word,  and  in  order 
to  save  her  father's  honor  and  her  child's  existence,  she 
consents.  With  him  she  returns  to  her  father's  house  in 
time  to  see  her  own  funeral  procession  going  out  of  it. 
She  is  heavily  veiled,  so  no  one  recognizes  her  outside  the 
house.  Tobaldi  remains  inexorable,  addresses  her  as  Madam 
with  stoical  heroism,  and  persists  in  burying  his  daughter. 
There  is,  however,  toward  the  end  of  this  scene,  some  weak- 
ening of  his  severity,  and  he  consents  that  Alberto,  the 
physician,  follow  Julia  to  Bertram's  estate  in  Tyrol  to  see 
that  she  is  properly  married  to  him.  He  will  never  see 
her  again,  but  he  can  think  of  her  again.  This  is  the  end 
of  the  second  of  the  three  acts. 

The  amount  of  new  information  the  poet  brings  in  the 
third  and  last  act  of  his  play,  indicates  plainly  what  a  con- 
fusing wealth  of  material  he  attempted  to  dispose  of  at  one 
time.  Of  course,  the  lost  lover,  Antonio  by  name,  returns. 
And  now  for  the  first  time,  we  learn,  and  Julia  learns,  his 
history.  He  is  a  robber  captain.  An  almost  fatal  wound 
explains  his  failure  to  appear  before,  or  even  send  word  of 
himself.  He  is  the  son  of  Grimaldi,  a  political  exile,  who 
from  bitterness  became  an  outlaw.  Antonio  has  thus  grown 
up  outside  the  pale  of  society.  His  father,  wishing  to 
restore  him  to  civilization,  long  kept  him  in  ignorance  of 
his  real  position  in  life.  But  finally  it  was  made  known  to 
him  when  his  father  was  captured  and  executed.  He  swears 
revenge  on  society  in  general,  and  Tobaldi  in  particular, 


140         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

* 

who,  to  be  sure  from  friendly  motives,  had  originally 
caused  his  father's  overthrow.  Hence  he  had  sought  out 
Julia.  But  in  entrapping  her  he  found  himself  entrapped. 
A  relation  begun  with  diabolic  intentions  ended  in  genuine 
love.  What  a  surprising  turn  to  affairs !  What  a  re- 
markable reversion  to  robber  romanticism  in  the  midst  of  a 
social  drama!  Nothing  could  be  further  from  our  interest 
than  such  a  story  at  such  a  point  in  the  drama. 

Here  follows  the  "discussion"  so  characteristic  of  the 
modern  drama.  Antonio,  who  with  growing  amazement 
has  followed  the  rapid  course  of  events — Julia's  death, 
burial,  sudden  reappearance,  and  marriage — now  demands 
from  her  an  explanation  with  as  much  vehemence  as  she 
from  him.  He  does  not  believe  in  Bertram's  noble  self- 
sacrifice,  as  he  conceives  it  to  be,  but  suspects  rather  that 
Bertram  is  endeavoring,  under  false  guise,  to  win  Julia's 
love.  In  the  admiration  and  gratitude  she  pays  her 
husband,  Antonio  already  sees  the  success  of  this  scheme. 
His  hasty,  though  quite  natural,  interpretation  of  Ber- 
tram's motives,  and  Julia's  as  well,  comes  near  losing  him  her 
love  indeed.  By  his  rashness  he  almost  occasions  the  very 
transfer  of  affections  which  he  so  fears.  But  Bertram 
convinces  him,  and  he  finds  his  better  self.  Like  Julia,  he  is 
willing  to  resign  all  claims  to  happiness  in  order  to  atone 
for  his  past  wrongdoings.  Here  we  have  again,  firmly 
touched,  the  main  chord  of  the  drama :  atonement  for  sin  by 
resignation  of  claims  to  happiness.  Not  resignation  in 
death,  as  in  Rosmersholm,  but  in  life,  a  more  active  form 
of  atonement.  In  Hebbel's  view,  the  right  to  die  must  be 
earned  if  it  is  to  have  any  moral  significance.  And  so,  at 
the  close  of  the  drama,  these  three  persons  stand  facing 
one  another.  Count  Bertram's  willingness  to  sacrifice  his 
existence  cannot,  of  course,  be  accepted  by  those  whom  such 
a  sacrifice  would  benefit.  The  reader,  indeed,  is  left  to  infer 
that  Bertram  is  a  clever  enough  man  to  arrange  his  acci- 
dental demise  in  a  very  natural  way.  The  mountains  of 
Tyrol  are  dangerous  and  he  is  fond  of  goat  hunting.  This 
forward  glance  at  the  end,  however,  does  not  detract  from 
the  inner  moral  victory  that  Julia  and  Antonio  win  over 


The  Transition  141 

themselves,  for  they  entertain  no  hopes.  Such,  at  least, 
must  have  been  Hebbel's  intention.  It  would  probably  have 
been  served  better  had  the  drama  closed  with  the  first  four 
lines  of  Bertram's  last  speech. 

After  completing  Julia,  Hebbel  sent  it  to  the  editor  of 
the  Annals  of  Dramatic  Art,  in  Berlin,  Professor  Theodor 
Rotscher,  whose  opinion  he  valued  highly,  and  Rotscher 
gave  it  to  the  management  of  the  Royal  Theater  for  consid- 
eration. They  were  afraid  of  it  and  returned  it  to  the 
poet.  This  was  in  1847.  The  next  year  brought  the  revo- 
lution in  Germany  and  Austria,  the  Vienna  censorship  was 
liberalized,  and  the  director  of  the  Burgtheater,  Franz  von 
Holbein,  secured  Julia  from  Hebbel  for  presentation  on 
that  stage.  Berlin  at  once  followed  suit.  Holbein^  how- 
ever, failed  to  give  Julia,  though  Judith  and  Mary(  Mag- 
dalene were  then,  since  the  revolution,  being  playefl  with 
frequency  and  success.  Berlin  delayed  likewise,  an<^  some 
vigorous  correspondence  passed  between  Kiistner*  the 
director,  and  Hebbel,  who  had  his  contract  and  insisted  on 
its  execution.  Kiistner's  offer  of  a  financial  consideration 
was  rejected,  and  the  case  was  finally  compromised  by 
Hebbel  consenting  to  the  substitution  of  Mary  Magdalene 
for  Julia.  In  the  meantime  a  year  or  two  had  elapsed,  the 
conservatives  had  the  upperhand  again,  the  censorship  ex- 
ercised most  of  its  old  authority,  the  time  for  Julia  had 
passed.  Laube  succeeded  Holbein  in  Vienna,  and  in  answer 
to  Hebbel's  inquiry,  why  Julia  was  not  given  as  agreed 
upon,  replied  that  the  management  doubted  the  "esthetic 
and  moral  value"  of  the  work.  These  facts  the  poet  made 
known  in  a  preface  to  Julia,  which  was  published  in  1851. 
He  adduced  them  to  prove  that  the  condition  of  dramatists 
after  1848  was  no  better  than  it  had  been  before,  that 
between  them  and  the  public  stood  the  same  overzealous 
guardians  of  public  morals.  He  did  not  blame  the  public 
for  the  slight  popularity  of  his  dramas,  but  those  who  kept 
his  dramas  from  the  public.  He  said  that  his  works  would 
appeal  to  the  last  man  in  the  gallery  as  well  as  the  first  man 
in  the  orchestra.  After  all,  he  had  no  serious  objection  to 
"ox  and  ass  snuffing  at"  his  works. 


\A 


142         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

The  preface  to  Julia  is  an  interesting  document.  In  it 
Hebbel  does  not  waste  a  word  defending  the  esthetic  value 
of  his  drama.  But  he  does  energetically  defend  its  moral 
value.  Nothing  vexed  Hebbel  more  than  the  charge  of  im- 
morality in  his  dramas.  In  his  eyes,  though  he  does  not 
confuse  the  spheres  of  preacher  and  poet,  a  poetic  work 
which  lacked  the  basis  of  morality  (Sitte),  lacked  every- 
thing. All  that  he  wrote  was  in  the  interest  of  a  higher 
morality,  a  morality  reduced  to  the  inexorable  terms  of 
necessity,  so  that  it  has  nothing  to  fear  because  it  has  noth- 

£  ing  to  lose.  Defending  Julia  from  this  point  of  view,  he 
says:  "Undeniably,  there  is  in  my  Julia  much  that  is  un- 
reasonable and  immoral.  But  I  assert  that  no  drama  is 
conceivable  which  is  not  unreasonable  and  immoral  in  all 
its  stages.  Quite  naturally,  for  in  every  particular  stage 
passion  is  in  control,  and  with  it  partiality  and  excess. 
Reason  and  morality  can  find  expression  only  in  the  total 
work  and  are  the  result  of  the  corrections  meted  out  to  the 
characters  by  the  concatenations  of  their  fate.  If  we  look 
closely,  the  poet  selects  from  the  world  the  most  unreason- 
able and  immoral  elements,  and  by  placing  cause  and  effect 
closer  together  than  is  accustomed  to  happen  in  reality, 
reduces  them  for  his  part  to  morality  and  reason.  One 
should  never  ask  from  what  point  he  starts,  but  to  what 
point  he  comes."     Hebbel  then  applies  these  general  state- 

L  ments  to  his  drama.  It  is  unnecessary  to  follow  him  in 
this,  as  his  case  is  quite  clear.  But  it  is  interesting  to  notice 
how  near  Hebbel  stood,  in  this  preface,  to  the  two  paths 
that  led,  on  the  one  hand  to  Ghosts,  and  on  the  other  to  a 
play  like  Damaged  Goods.  It  would  seem  that  he  almost 
touched  the  problems  of  these  dramas.  He  says  that,  how- 
ever common  the  Bertram  of  his  first  act  might  be,  the 
Bertram  of  his  last  would  scarcely  be  found  in  Europe. 
The  real  Bertrams  marry,  if  they  can,  and  call  into  exist- 
ence wretched  creatures,  "condemned  without  guilt  and 
from  the  beginning  to  eternal  suffering." 

Why  did  not  Hebbel  pursue  this  course,  so  favorably 
begun  in  Mary  Magdalene?  The  answer  to  this  question  is 
significant  for  his  innermost  nature.     The  speculative  cast 


The  Transition  143 

of  his  mind  prevented  him  from  becoming  a  practical 
preacher  to  humanity.  He  too  conceived  of  the  poet  as  the 
seer,  the  truth-teller,  the  prophet,  the  mouthpiece  of  the 
divine  will.  But  he  was  trying  to  find  more  significant 
symbols  for  the  expression  of  his  truth,  or  perhaps  it  is 
better  to  say  that  he  had  the  vision  of  a  larger  truth,  which 
necessitated  these  symbols.  An  ideal  of  this  symbolic  form, 
a  perception  of  beauty,  had  been  shaping  itself  in  his  mind. 
Even  before  finishing  Julia,  he  characterized  it  as  a  work  of 
transition,  and  already  he  had  begun  his  Herodes  und 
Mariamne,  the  first  of  his  later  dramas.  A  letter  to  Kuhne 
(June,  1848)  gives  us  an  account  of  his  feelings  during  this 
period  of  transition.  "My  ideas,"  he  writes,  "are  becoming 
much  clearer,  especially  since  the  conflicts  out  of  which  my 
earlier  dramas  grew  are  now  being  dealt  with  and  historic- 
ally settled  on  the  streets.  For  the  rotten  conditions  of 
the  world  weighed  me  down  as  if  I  alone  had  to  suffer  under 
them,  and  to  bring  their  untenableness  to  light  by  artistic 
means,  seemed  to  me  not  unworthy  of  art.  This  I  did, 
without,  of  course,  concealing  from  myself  for  a  moment  the 
divergence  between  what  I  intended  and  what  I  accom- 
plished. I  now  consider  myself  relieved.  I  shall  no  longer 
paint  the  old  prison  without  chimney  and  window,  for  it  is 
collapsing  and  we  can  think  of  a  new  building."  With  a 
sigh  of  relief  he  closes  this  chapter  of  his  works  and  opens  a 
new,  in  which  he  trusts  that  everything  will  be  freer,  more 
significant,  more  universal.  This  was  less  a  change  of  ideas 
than  of  artistic  form.  He  did  not  intend  to  pass  by  the 
problems  of  life,  nor  to  pursue  a  heavenly  beauty.  Har- 
mony was  to  be  wrung  from  the  problem,  beauty  from 
the  struggle  of  its  elements.  But  he  would  never  again  give 
so  plain  and  direct,  so  particular  a  discussion  of  the  ills  of 
society.  The  material  of  his  later  dramas  is  always  drawn 
from  legend  or  history. 

Compared  with  Mary  Magdalene  as  a  work  of  art,  Julia 
is  anything  but  an  improvement.  It  is  full  of  epic  elements, 
of  narrative  where  we  should  expect  presentation.  The 
plot,  which  in  a  work  of  this  kind  should  be  as  natural  and 
evident  as  possible,  is  improbable  and  obscure.     The  poet 


144         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

spoke  of  two  ideas  as  embodied  in  this  work:  the  Bertram 
idea  of  atonement,  and  the  Antonio  idea  of  a  man  born  out- 
side the  pale  of  society.  What  connection  is  there  between 
these  ideas?  Neither  one  is  necessary  to  the  other.  The 
second  would  have  a  psychological  rather  than  a  social 
interest  such  as  is  demanded  by  the  first.  And  since  the 
first  is,  beyond  question,  the  main  theme  of  the  drama,  the 
latter  resolves  itself  into  an  unfortunately  chosen  subsidi- 
ary. Besides,  as  Hebbel  presents  it  to  us  it  is  not 
convincing. 

In  the  same  year  (1846),  the  first  noteworthy  per- 
formance of  Mary  Magdalene  was  arranged  at  the  City 
Theater  in  Leipzig.  It  attracted  considerable  attention, 
its  repetition  drawing  a  number  of  distinguished  visitors 
from  Berlin.  The  actor  who  gave  Master  Anton  said,  in  a 
letter  to  Emil  Kuh,  that  the  performance  was  a  triumph 
for  the  actors,  rather  than  for  the  poet,  and  that  the 
motives  for  Clara's  conduct  were  severely  criticised  by  the 
public.  Yet  he  praised  the  effect  of  the  vigorous  characteri- 
zation, the  clear  outlines,  and  the  energetic  language. 
Heinrich  Laube  (Burgtheater,  p.  227)  says,  that  the 
second  performance  was  a  failure,  the  house  being  prac- 
tically empty  and  not  a  woman  in  the  audience.  At  any 
rate,  Hebbel  felt  encouraged  by  the  event,  some  other  cities 
followed  Leipzig,  and  the  poet's  letters  expressed  the  hope 
that  better  times  for  him  had  begun. 

While  the  theaters  seemed  to  be  taking  up  Mary  Mag- 
dalene, the  beginning  of  what  Hebbel  termed  a  deeper  criti- 
cism of  his  works  was  made  in  the  shape  of  a  little  volume 
written  by  Bamberg,  and  published  by  Hoffmann  and 
Campe  (1846).  This  essay  was  entitled:  Concerning  the 
Influence  of  Contemporary  Events  on  Literature  and  Con- 
cerning the  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel.  Bamberg  reviewed 
the  three  main  published  plays  of  Hebbel,  particularly  in 
their  symbolic  aspects,  and  went  into  a  considerable  discus- 
sion of  fundamental  principles.  It  is  evident  on  every 
page  that  he  had  been  closely  associated  with  the  poet 
himself,  for  the  theoretical  terms  of  both  are  the  same.  He 
defended  Hebbel  especially  against  the  common  misconcep- 


The  Transition  145 

tion  that  reconciliation  was  lacking  in  his  tragedies,  and 
pointed  out  his  essential  conservatism  as  opposed  to  the 
Young  Germans.  In  general  he  gave  an  excellent  analysis 
of  the  dramas,  also  on  their  personal  side,  though  his 
tendency  to  overemphasize  the  idea  beyond  what  even  Hebbel 
would  have  dared  is  plain  when  he  describes  Golo  as  less  a 
passionate  man  than  passion  personified,  and  Holofernes 
as  less  a  powerful  man  than  power  personified. 

If  Hebbel  had  settled  in  Vienna  with  the  hopes  of  gain- 
ing influence  on  the  stage  there,  he  was  soon  to  be  dis- 
illusioned. In  his  December  summary  for  1846  he  records 
that  he  has  made  a  few  friends  and  many  enemies.  The 
momentary  enthusiasm  with  which  the  Viennese  had  feted  a 
transient  guest  changed  to  hostility  when  that  guest  pre- 
pared to  take  permanent  lodgings  in  their  midst.  Hebbel 
says  the  friends  turned  into  "serpents,"  stole  his  ideas, 
corrupted  his  manuscripts,  and  "did  much  worse  things." 
His  list  of  followers,  according  to  his  rather  pessimistic 
statement,  is  soon  exhausted:  Englander  in  Vienna,  Bam- 
berg in  Paris.  It  is  true,  however,  that  his  isolation  per- 
sisted. Neither  the  literary  journals  nor  the  theaters  in 
Vienna  concerned  themselves  with  him.  Christine's  influ- 
ence, so  far  from  aiding  him,  was  not  sufficient  to  secure 
the  proper  recognition  of  her  place.  He  now  had  her 
battles  to  fight  as  well  as  his. 

Hebbel  fully  realized  by  this  time  the  impossibility  of 
doing  without  the  reviewers,  and  he  made  various  efforts  to 
win  some  of  them.  He  began,  the  next  year,  by  sending  a 
copy  of  Mary  Magdalene  to  the  influential  Allgemeine 
Zeitung,  accompanied  by  a  mildly  firm,  frank  protest 
against  the  unfair  impression  which  that  journal  had  given 
of  his  work.  He  also  offered,  should  it  be  desired,  to  send 
copies  of  his  other  works,  so  that  a  more  connected  view 
of  his  writings  might  be  had.  No  reply  was  made  to  this 
reasonable  advance  on  his  part,  and  the  paper  continued, 
in  passing,  to  deal  out  side  thrusts  at  him,  or  if  it  said  a 
word  of  praise  took  that  as  a  text  to  disparage  him  all 
the  more.  Cordial  relations  were  formed,  however,  with 
Rotscher,  editor  of  the  Yearbook  of  Dramatic  Art  in  Berlin, 


146         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

and  Kiihne,  editor  of  the  Europa,  in  Leipzig.  Most  of  all 
the  poet  was  satisfied  with  an  essay  on  his  Mary  Magdalene 
by  the  great  Swabian  critic,  Professor  Fr.  Th.  Vischer. 
Vischer's  praise  meant  much,  and  his  blame  was  instructive. 
In  his  Diary  the  poet  says,  "He  recognizes  Mary  Magdalene 
almost  without  reserve,  and  attacks  only  the  Preface.  To 
have  won  so  much  from  this  stern,  brusque  spirit  is  great 
in  my  esteem.  It  helps  calm  me  inwardly,  for  more  than 
Vischer  and  Rotscher  I  do  not  need,  but  they  are  necessary 
for  me." 

This  interesting  essay  was  indeed  complimentary  in 
Vischer's  own  manner.  After  a  general  statement  of  the 
expectant  attitude  of  German  dramatic  art  and  of  the 
difficulty  German  poets  had  in  easily  combining  their  depth 
with  French  perfection  of  form,  he  declared  that  Hebbel 
united  these  two  elements  better  than  any  one  else  in  Ger- 
many. Hebbel,  he  thought,  understood  character  as  well 
as  suspense  in  action.  What  he  lacked  was  a  feeling  for 
simple  custom.  He  had  made  a  mistake  in  converting 
Judith  from  a  plain  Biblical  character  into  a  modern  prob- 
lematic woman.  The  same  fault  was  found  with  the  char- 
acters in  Genoveva,  that  is,  for  being  at  variance  with  their 
legendary  surroundings,  and  the  structure  of  that  tragedy 
was  severely  criticised.  But  Mary  Magdalene,  he  thought, 
blotted  out  the  memory  of  all  these  shortcomings.  Vischer 
recognized  this  work  as  an  epoch  in  middle  class  tragedy, 
rescuing  that  genre,  as  it  did,  from  pettiness  in  motive  and 
a  crude  balancing  of  tragic  guilt.  He  praised  the  analytic 
technique,  and  declared  that  in  the  art  of  characterization 
Hebbel  had  attained  to  real  significance.  But  he  vented 
his  full  wrath  on  the  dedicatory  verses  and  the  Preface, 
entirely  rejecting  the  view  generally  held,  that  the  drama 
was  meant  to  be  one  of  social  criticism.  Finally  he  warned 
Hebbel  not  to  risk  the  naive  impression  of  his  characters 
by  too  much  attention  to  their  ideal  aspects,  and  concluded 
with  a  sharp  limitation  of  his  natural  province  to  the 
psychological  tragedy. 

During  this  year  (1847)  Elise  Lensing  came  to  Vienna 
to  spend  more  than  twelve  months  in  Hebbel's  home.     Both 


The  Transition  147 

she  and  Christine  had  endured  heavy  loss.  The  little  son  of 
Christine  and  the  poet  had  died  in  February,  only  six  weeks 
of  age,  and  in  May  Ernst  Hebbel  had  died  in  Hamburg.  It 
was  when  this  misfortune  befell  Elise  that  Christine  invited 
her  to  Vienna,  thus  hoping  to  lighten  her  burden  of  loneli- 
ness, an  attempt  fully  justified  by  the  event. 

When  Hebbel  came,  in  December,  1847,  to  sum  up  his 
account  for  the  year,  he  had  the  following  facts  to  record: 
the  publication  of  his  comedy,  The  Diamond;  a  great  deal 
of  work  on  Schnock,  and  the  preparation  of  all  his  stories 
for  the  press ;  the  publication  of  two  of  them,  Anna  and 
Nepomuk  Schlagel,  in  Vienna ;  two  essays  in  Rotscher's  Year- 
book, one  on  dramatic  style,  the  other  on  the  Relation 
between  Power  and  Consciousness  in  the  Poet;  the  writing  of 
an  old  story,  Mr.  Haidvogel  and  His  Family,  in  new  form; 
and  the  preparation  of  a  new  volume  of  poems.  These 
latter  were  published  by  J.  J.  Weber  in  Leipzig,  as  Hebbel 
was  not  altogether  satisfied  with  Campe,  who  "still  wanted 
everything  for  nothing."  The  poems  came  out  at  Christ- 
mas, "full  of  errors."  The  Diamond,  which  he  still  called 
his  best  work,  was  either  condemned  or  ignored.  The 
Tragedy  in  Sicily,  also  published  by  Weber,  had  met  an 
even  more  unfriendly  fate. 

The  discussion  of  the  stories  may  be  conveniently  post- 
poned until  their  appearance  in  collected  form,  in  1855. 
We  ma}'  now,  however,  attempt  to  gain  some  idea  of  the  two 
brief  essays  and  the  new  volume  of  poems. 

The  critical  essays,  the  first  of  importance  since  the 
Preface  to  Mary  Magdalene,  are  among  the  most  satis- 
factory that  Hebbel  wrote.  The  involved  and  heavy  struc- 
ture of  the  Preface  has  been  entirely  abandoned,  and  the 
language,  while  losing  nothing  of  its  energy  or  compactness, 
is  direct  and  clear.  In  the  essay  On  Style  in  the  Drama, 
about  eight  pages  in  length,  he  takes  as  his  text  the  usual 
statement  of  the  reviewers:  The  dialogue  is  smooth  or  the 
dialogue  is  heavy.  This  is,  he  declares,  as  good  as  saying 
nothing  at  all  about  the  dialogue ;  it  is  in  no  sense  a  charac- 
terization of  what  the  dialogue  really  is.  What  should  one 
look  for  in  dramatic  speech?     To  answer  this  question  he 


148         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

lays  down  some  general  principles.  Language  is  the  most 
important  element  in  all  poetry.  The  plot  and  the  char- 
acters always  retain  more  or  less  abstract  significance.  In 
the  language  alone  lies  the  infallible  test.  Here  the  real  poet 
cannot  hide  his  wealth  nor  the  pretender  disguise  his  poverty. 
A  discerning  eye  can  always  distinguish  the  really  individual 
style.  What  are  its  characteristics?  We  can  discover  two 
elements  in  language,  the  union  of  which  forms  its  highest 
product :  one  is  general,  abstract,  the  genius  of  the  language ; 
the  other  is  the  individual  genius.  The  synthesis  of  these  two 
is  individual  style  in  poetry.  The  value  of  a  language  as  a 
medium  of  spiritual  expression  depends  on  the  freedom  of 
movement  left  to  the  individual  genius  within  the  larger 
limits.  The  object  of  language  is  to  reveal  the  spirit.  In 
it  the  spirit  appears  in  two  forms:  as  thought  and  poetry 
(denken  und  dichten).  Both  of  these  forms  begin  with  the 
sensuous  image.  The  one  by  destroying  its  particularity 
rises  to  the  concept ;  the  other  in  retaining  its  particularity 
rises  to  the  symbol.  "Poetic  style  is,  therefore,  in  its  very 
basic  elements  a  sensuous  thing."  Individual  style  in 
poetry  must  have  sensuous  energy,  it  must  be  old  and  new, 
unique  and  symbolic.  Hebbel  was  pleased  to  find  this  view 
confirmed  by  Schiller  also,  in  that  poet's  correspondence 
with  Korner,  which  he  reviewed  at  length  in  1 84*8-49. 1  In 
that  review  he  speaks  of  the  necessity  of  the  poet,  by  his  art, 
overcoming  the  tendency  of  language  to  be  abstract. 

Dramatic  style  has,  however,  special  laws  and  condi- 
tions of  its  own.  There  everything  depends  on  whether  the 
thing  is  shown  or  a  report  is  made  about  it.  "Dramatic 
presentation  gives  the  process  in  its  full  significance  and 
accompanies  everything,  the  persons,  their  affections,  and 
their  passions.  ...  It  shows  life  in  its  own  peculiar  form, 
the  act  of  being  born  over  again."  In  this  respect  it  is  the 
opposite  of  narrative,  which  has  to  do  with  something 
finished  and  is  not  concerned  with  transitions  from  one 
stage  to  another.  A  narrative  style  in  the  drama  is  only  a 
pseudo-dramatic  style  which  attempts  to  assume  the  aspects 

*W.  XI,  p.  152,  169. 


The  Transition  149 


of  real  dialogue.  This  false  style  "will  always  be  brief  and 
empty.  Brief,  because  it  has  only  one  line  or  a  very  few 
lines  to  draw;  empty,  because  for  fear  of  getting  through 
too  soon  it  adds  to  these  all  kinds  of  superfluous  scrolls. 
Brevity  is  its  virtue,  and  it  can  be  accorded  no  greater 
praise  than  that  of  being  smooth  and  terse.  Very  different 
is  the  case  with  dramatic  presentation.  At  its  every  step 
there  throngs  around  it  a  world  of  views  and  relations^  which 
point  both  backwards  and  forwards,  and  all  of  which  must  be 
carried  along ;  the  life  forces  cross  and  destroy  one  another, 
the  thread  of  thought  snaps  in  two  before  it  is  spun  out,  the 
emotion  shifts,  the  very  words  gain  their  independence  and 
reveal  a  hidden  meaning,  annulling  the  ordinary  one,  for 
each  is  a  die  marked  on  more  than  a  single  face.  Here  the 
chaff  of  little  sentences,  adding  bit  to  bit  and  fiber  to  fiber, 
would  serve  the  purpose  ill.  It  is  a  question  of  presenting 
conditions  in  their  organic  totality.  .  .  .  Unevenness  of 
rhythm,  complication  and  confusion  of  periods,  contradic- 
tion in  the  figures,  are  elevated  to  effective  and  indispensable 
rhetorical  means,  however  crude  and  cumbrous  they  may 
appear  to  the  superficial  eye,  which  does  not  recognize  that 
the  struggle  for  expression  is  also  expression."  It  is,  he 
concludes,  "not  without  adequate  inner  reason,  that  Shake- 
speare rolls  his  dialogue  in  front  of  him,  as  does  Sisyphus 
the  stone,"  while  Kotzebue's  dialogue  "dances  and  skips 
along  elegantly,  like  a  top  before  a  boy's  whip."  These 
sentences  are  doubly  worth  quoting,  first,  for  the  truth  they 
contain,  and  second,  because  in  them  is  set  the  goal  for 
HebbePs  efforts  in  his  own  dialogue.  There  is  no  better 
brief  characterization  of  his  dramatic  language  at  its  best 
than  that  contained  in  this  little  essay. 

It  was  likewise  not  without  reference  to  his  own  produc- 
tion that  Hebbel  wrote  the  next  essay,  on  the  relation  be- 
tween talent  and  consciousness  in  the  poet.  Too  often  he 
had  been  forced  to  hear  that  his  works  were  intentional, 
that  they  were  philosophy  rather  than  poetry,  that  they 
lacked  what  was  termed  naivete.  At  last  he  thought  it 
worth  while  to  say  a  word  on  this  interesting  subject. 
Throughout  the  five  pages  of  his  essay  he  makes  use  of  the 


150         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

terms  Kraft  and  Erkenntnis,  which  may  be  approximately 
rendered  by  talent  and  consciousness.  Does  the  poet  know 
what  he  is  about?  Or  is  he  like  a  child  blindly  doing  certain 
things  which  mean  more  to  the  intelligent  onlooker  than  to 
itself?  Hebbel  answers  this  last  question  decidedly  in  the 
negative.  The  state  of  "dull  unconsciousness,"  which  some 
critics  imagine  to  be  the  so-called  naivete  of  the  poetic 
process,  is  only  the  beginning  of  that  process.  In  that 
state  beauty  is  "conceived"  but  not  "born."  The  creative 
process  falls  into  two  stages.  The  one  may  be  subcon- 
scious, the  other  certainly  is  not.  Consciousness,  however, 
does  not  imply  reflection,  and  this  is  indeed  absent  from  the 
act  of  poetic  creation.  In  another  place,  in  which  Hebbel 
approached  the  question  from  the  opposite  direction,2  he 
declared  that  the  characters,  situations,  and  sometimes  even 
the  action  in  its  anecdotal  aspects  sprang  suddenly  and 
unannounced  out  of  the  imagination;  and  that  everything 
else  was  conscious.  Whether  he  is  using  the  word  "con- 
scious" in  the  same  sense  in  both  passages  is  not  certain. 
In  the  Diary  passage  he  seems  to  mean  that  everything 
connected  with  the  material  of  the  drama  is  unconscious, 
while  the  forming  of  it  is  conscious.  Would  then  reflection 
have  no  place  in  this  latter  process?  If  not,  how  account 
for  the  importance  Hebbel  in  many  other  statements 
attached  to  what  he  termed  "artistic  understanding?"  We 
know  that  he  valued  this  quality  highly  in  Shakespeare, 
and  himself  claimed  his  share  of  it.  We  know  that  he  at- 
tributed to  it  an  indispensable,  though  negative,  function. 
The  understanding  should  ask  but  never  answer.  We  see 
that  Hebbel  gave  no  systematic  answer  to  the  questions 
here  implied.  He  approached  the  problem  from  particular 
points  of  view  on  separate  occasions.  No  more  does  he 
attempt  to  analyze  the  conditions  that  precede  those  sudden 
and  unannounced  appearances  of  character  and  situation. 
He  wrote  this  particular  essay  to  defend  himself,  and  to 
attack  the  "raft  of  poets  whose  so-called  poetry  rests  upon 
their  inability  to  think."3     The  thrust  was  aimed  also  at 

»T.  II,  28. 

» Schiller's  Correspondence  with  Korner,  W.  XI,  p.  152. 


The  Transition  151 

those  interpreters  who  imagined  themselves  to  be  wiser  than 
the  poet.  For  that  reason  they  desired  to  make  of  him  the 
playing  child  whose  games  they  must  explain.  He  reaches 
the  conclusion  that  talent  and  consciousness  each  condition 
the  other.  The  poet  can  both  know  what  he  does  and  do 
what  he  knows,  a  statement  which,  put  in  this  form,  seems 
more  than  doubtful. 

The  volume  of  poems  to  which  reference  has  been  made 
bore  the  title,  New  Poems  by  Friedrich  Hebbel.  A  great 
many  of  them  had  been  published  already  in  different  peri- 
odicals. The  collection  falls  into  three  parts:  Mixed 
Poems,  Book  of  Sonnets,  A  Book  of  Epigrams. 

The  Mixed  Poems  embrace  some  with  which  we  are 
already  familiar.  Spring's  Sacrifice  was  the  second  poem 
in  the  collection.  The  first  was  one  that  Hebbel  ranked 
with  it  in  the  scale  of  his  production:  Love-Charm.  It  is  a 
kind  of  ballad,  and  has  fine  parts,  though  it  seems  somewhat 
labored  in  comparison  with  the  effect  it  attains.  Much 
more  poetic  are  the  verses  inspired  by  the  Sicilian  Sisters, 
the  poet's  friends  in  Naples.  They  are  made  the  subject 
of  two  poems,  one  a  mere  picture  of  how  the  writer,  waiting 
in  the  evening  to  obtain  a  glimpse  of  his  beautiful  neighbors 
on  their  balcony,  sees  them  kneel  with  their  mother  to  do 
reverence  to  the  Host,  borne  by  a  procession  of  priests. 
This  little  scene  is  described  in  the  smoothly  flowing  Spanish 
rhythm  so  well  used  by  the  Romanticists — a  southern  meter 
to  a  southern  theme.  Diction  and  imagery  are  harmonious 
and  sensuous.  The  poem  is  dreamy  without  being  vague. 
In  general  Hebbel  knew  how  to  make  a  picture  of  this  sort, 
to  put  in  words  the  symphony  of  a  situation.  It  requires 
not  only  a  clear  eye,  but  a  delicate  participation  of  the 
emotions.  The  human  side  of  his  pictures  Hebbel  usually 
furnishes  from  his  speculative  feelings,  but  in  this  case  love 
provides  the  necessary  warmth.  The  other  poem,  consider- 
ably longer,  is  based  on  a  peculiar  situation — the  poet's 
position  between  the  two  sisters.  The  older  possesses  his 
heart,  to  her  an  indifferent  offering.  The  younger,  un- 
fortunately, would  give  all  to  possess  it.  The  flame  was 
kindled  in  her  heart  by  looks  bestowed  upon  her  but  not 


152         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

meant  for  her.  They  were  meant  for  the  reflection  of  her 
sister  in  her.  The  poet  deplores  the  harm  he  has  thus  inad- 
vertently done,  and  returning  to  his  own  grief  regrets  that 
he  has  ever  loved  before.  For  everything  fades  in  com- 
parison with  his  present  love,  which  is  genuine  and  un- 
changeable. Though  perishing  from  the  wounds  he  has 
received,  he  heaps  the  treasures  of  poetry  on  his  be- 
loved. 

Some  of  the  Copenhagen  verses  were  included  in  the 
new  collection,  among  the  best  being  those  inspired  by 
Thorwaldsen's  Ganymede  and  the  eagle.  The  poems  com- 
posed in  Paris  are  more  significant.  From  the  standpoint 
of  art,  at  least,  this  would  not  be  true  of  the  long  poem 
already  described:  The  Departed  Child  to  Its  Mother,  which 
is  more  speculation  than  poetry.  Of  the  highest  value,  on 
the  other  hand,  are  The  Walk  in  Paris  and  The  Heath  Lad. 
These  two  poems,  different  as  they  are,  show  Hebbel's  essen- 
tial powers  separate  and  distinct:  the  speculative  poem  and 
the  dramatic  ballad.  His  best  dramas  have  the  depth  of 
the  one  and  the  tragic  intensity  of  the  other.  The  poet's 
mood  in  the  Walk  is  unusually  calm  and  bright.  The 
harassing  material  cares  of  life,  the  bitter  prayers  to 
nature  for  annihilation — all  this  is  temporarily  forgotten. 
Whatever  can  make  light  and  music  in  his  soul  takes  posses- 
sion of  him,  and  the  iron  ring  about  him  is  shattered.  "I 
felt  what  I  might  be  and  what  I  am,  and  eagerly  I  exchanged 
one  for  the  other."  Thus  with  assured  consciousness  and 
ease  he  expresses  his  impressions  and  reflections.  The 
crowds,  the  distinguished  men,  the  beautiful  women,  fine 
dresses,  envious  beggars,  thronging  booths,  Caesar,  Napo- 
leon— the  whole  amusing  farce  of  life — sweeps  past  him  in 
reality  or  in  thought,  leaving  him  detached  and  observant 
of  its  movements.  Then  the  approach  of  night,  the 
restaurant,  a  glass  of  wine  and  the  newspaper.  The  first 
glance  tells  him  of  Thorwaldsen's  death.  "Now  all  the  im- 
perial thrones  are  vacant."  Beethoven,  Goethe,  and  now 
Thorwaldsen,  the  last  who  "struck  Grecian  fire  from  the 
marble!"  Sadness  overpowers  him  for  the  moment.  Will 
the  demigods  return  to  earth,  or  have  they  gone  forever? 


The  Transition  153 

From  this  depressing  thought  the  poet  turns  away  to  say 
farewell  to  the  spirit  whose  presence  he  feels  near  him. 

The  Heath  Lad  is  perhaps  Hebbel's  most  popular  ballad. 
The  idea  is  that  of  a  murder  announced  in  advance  by  a 
dream.  The  lad  dreams  that  his  master  sends  him  over  the 
lonely  heath  with  money  for  some  one  in  the  next  town.  He 
comes  in  his  dream  to  a  willow-tree  and  is  there  murdered  by 
a  man  who  joins  him  on  the  way.  In  reality  the  next  morn- 
ing he  is  entrusted  with  the  money,  and  sets  out  in  great 
anxiety.  His  fear  is  his  undoing.  The  heath  is  so  lonely 
that  he  begs  a  shepherd  to  send  his  servant  with  him,  be- 
cause, he  adds,  he  is  afraid  of  being  robbed  of  his  money. 
When  the  servant  appears  the  terrified  boy  recognizes  in 
him  the  figure  of  his  dream.  The  servant  robs  him,  kills 
him,  and  leaves  his  body  by  the  willow-tree.  The  story  is 
told  with  swift  intensity.  The  boy's  anxiety,  the  deserted 
heath,  the  silent  and  uncanny  companion — these  effects  are 
indelibly  impressed  on  the  mind  of  the  reader. 

Hebbel  made  use  of  the  sonnet  for  the  most  serious 
purposes.  To  express  the  transitoriness  of  life,  to  inter- 
pret the  beauty  of  painting  or  sculpture,  to  convey  some  of 
his  poetic  philosophy,  and  unfortunately,  now  and  then, 
to  versify  an  abstraction.  Scarcely  one  of  his  sonnets  is  a 
love  poem.  Eduard  Morike  well  described  them  in  the 
following  words :  "That  speculative  longing,  which  never 
ceases  and  should  not  cease  to  rule  us,  has  found  in  these 
poems  .  .  .  very  striking  and  general  expression."  Of 
the  sonnets  written  in  Italy,  two  celebrate  the  beauty  of 
Roman  women,  two  the  beauty  of  antique  art,  and  one  the 
ruins  of  the  eternal  city.  The  sonnet  entitled  Beauty  has 
already  been  mentioned,  beauty  being  conceived  of  as  the 
medium  used  by  the  Infinite  to  appear  to  men.  This  poem 
is  not  abstract,  for  beauty  is  here  attributed  to  a  person 
not  named.  The  same  cannot  be  said,  however,  of  the  lines 
on  the  Criterion  of  Beauty,  which  have  little  of  the  indi- 
vidual element  of  art.  The  Two  Drinkers  contains  the 
same  thought  as  the  lines  To  a  Friend,  among  the  mixed 
poems :  that  is,  take  life  as  it  comes  without  wasting  time  in 
the  useless  effort  to  unravel  its  mysteries.     It  is  made  up  of 


154         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

all  its  parts  and  cannot  be  otherwise  embraced.  The  friend 
to  whom  the  poet  addresses  this  admonition  was  no  other 
than  himself.  It  was  Hebbel  the  thinker  to  Hebbel  the 
poet.  A  sonnet  on  Language  is  rather  abstract,  another 
on  the  position  of  the  artist  among  men  is  more  personal, 
coming  as  it  does  from  his  own  experience.  Here  he  remem- 
bers that  inner  wealth  and  power  to  express  it  should  be 
considered  full  compensation  for  neglect.  In  Double  War- 
fare he  demands  that  the  sham  warfare  among  real  poets 
should  give  way  to  real  warfare  on  sham  poets.  We  may 
make  an  end  to  this  cataloguing  by  mentioning  a  sonnet 
to  Christine  Enghaus,  written  after  their  marriage.  Just 
as  the  actress  embodies  the  creations  of  the  poet  and  gives 
them  life,  so  he  had  hoped  to  give  shape  to  the  spirit  of  his 
times,  "to  lift  it  beyond  itself  through  the  quiet  unfolding 
of  new  beauty."  "But,"  he  continues,  "this  Germany  will 
scarcely  inspire  us,  and  before  we  know  it  we  shall  desist 
in  vexation.  Therefore  let  us  reward  each  other."  It  was 
well  for  Hebbel  that  he  had  this  consolation,  for  his  fears 
were  too  well  founded. 

The  epigrams  of  the  edition  of  1847  were  arranged  in 
miscellaneous  order.  When  Hebbel  published  the  complete 
edition  of  his  poems  in  1857,  he  not  only  doubled  the  number 
of  epigrams  but  grouped  them  according  to  different  sub- 
jects. Then  in  lines  set  at  the  head  of  the  collection  he 
briefly  characterized  the  tone  and  contents  of  all  that 
followed.  Pictures  caught  in  passing,  thoughts  complete  in 
themselves,  many  an  historical  touch,  now  and  then  a  breath 
which  swells  the  heart  and  forsakes  it  again  before  a  song  is 
formed — in  the  midst  of  all  this,  though  rarely,  the  heads  of 
miscreants,  as  one  sees  the  heads  of  owls  or  jackdaws  nailed 
on  barn-doors.  But  all  in  the  verse  that  Goethe  and 
Schiller  made  use  of,  though  Platen  and  Voss  despised  it. 
Such  is  a  paraphrase  of  these  introductory  lines.  In  the 
last  sentence  the  poet  means  merely  that  he  uses  the  pen- 
tameter in  free  German  style. 

To  avoid  repetition  it  is  convenient  to  discuss  all  these 
epigrams  together,  without  regard  to  the  edition  in  which 
they  appeared.     And  for  the  sake  of  greater  definiteness 


The  Transition  155 

we  may  mention  the  main  headings  selected  by  the  poet  for 
each  of  his  groups :  Pictures,  Gnomes,  Art,  History,  Ethical, 
Personal,  Miscellaneous.  HebbePs  epigrams  are  genuine 
chips  from  his  poetic  block.  They  have  little  of  the  bril- 
liancy of  Martial.  The  subtle  turn  of  expression,  the  swift 
irony,  the  sudden  smile  of  mockery  are  generally  absent. 
Social  satire  was  not  Hebbel's  affair.  Not  only  is  the 
group  of  epigrams  on  art  a  large  one;  many  of  these  verses 
deal  with  abstract  subjects,  such  as  genius  and  talent, 
master  and  bungler,  the  German  language,  verse  and  prose, 
form  and  content,  imitation  of  nature,  the  Dutch  school. 
Humor  is  not  lacking.  But  it  is  not  the  polished,  urbane 
sort,  it  is  rather  the  grim  humor  of  Hagen.  In  the  whole 
collection  the  prevailing  tone  is  serious,  and  every  step  we 
make  is  repaid  by  some  memorable  and,  usually,  well  put 
idea. 

Here  again  it  is  in  the  pictures  that  Hebbel  excels.  Let 
us  see  a  few  of  them.  The  Duke  of  Augustenberg  is  being 
carried  to  his  grave.  Great  throngs  of  interested  people 
follow  the  procession.  Are  they  sad?  Not  at  all.  Each 
is  bent  on  his  own  pleasure.  A  great  wave  of  life  surges 
around  death.  Humanity  is  immortal.  Here  is  an  old 
man  reckoning  that  he  still  has  twenty  years  before  he  will 
be  a  hundred.  Here  is  a  child  asking  its  nurse  to  have  the 
emperor  buried  the  next  day.  Only  the  poet  sees  the  dead 
man's  white  face  and  closed  eyes — until  a  girl  he  knows 
greets  him  with  a  smile.  Perhaps  the  two  finest  pictures 
as  such  are  A  Neapolitan  Scene  and  The  Sicilian  Ropedancer- 
The  first:  A  blacksmith  is  hammering  away  busily  in  his 
shop,  when  a  mendicant  friar  approaches  him.  The  man 
gives  him  the  penny  earned  by  his  early  labor,  and  the  monk 
offers  twofold  thanks,  the  image  of  the  Madonna  to  be 
kissed,  and  his  snuff-box  for  a  pinch.  The  second:  The 
pretty  little  rope-dancer  takes  her  collection  in  front  of  the 
booth.  Contrasting  with  her  red  dress  she  wears  a  chain  of 
white  corals  about  her  neck.  In  dancing  she  has  broken 
one  of  the  beads,  and  being  a  mere  child  looks  to  her  sister 
for  comfort.  But  the  latter  turns  her  back  angrily  and 
throws    her    tambourine   into    the    air    so    that   it   bursts. 


156         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

"Alas,"  concludes  the  poet,  "I  can  understand  her!  She 
has  lost  something  more  precious,  and  your  childish  sorrow 
for  the  broken  bead,  mirroring,  as  it  does,  the  flawless 
purity  of  your  soul,  reminds  her  of  your  possession  and  her 
loss."  It  is  also  evident  that  Hebbel  was  captivated  by  the 
natural  beauty  of  Italy.  Italy,  he  says,  like  Heliogabalus 
smothers  her  guests  with  flowers.  Rome  is  assured  by  the 
skies  above  it  of  being  the  eternal  city.  The  Colosseum 
with  the  cross — though  that  alone  saved  it  from  the  hand 
of  the  barbarian — reminds  him  of  a  slain  giant  with  a 
branded  forehead,  a  thought  similar  to  that  which  had  once 
made  Grillparzer's  way  hard  in  Austria.  Upon  the  Capitol 
he  feels  the  presence  of  the  greatest  Roman  of  them  all: 

Cesar   uncovered   his   head,    though   he   had    no    Cesar    to 

honor! 
That  is  the  least  I  can  do,  now  that  his  spirit  is  here. 

Most  of  the  Gnomes  are  in  two  lines,  none  over  four. 
They  nearly  all  contain  interesting  ideas  and  truths,  but 
few  have  the  necessary  pithiness  for  the  epigram.  In  his 
epigrams  on  art,  apart  from  those  of  a  more  general  nature, 
Hebbel  expresses  ideas  that  have  been  made  familiar  during 
the  course  of  our  discussion.  He  upholds  the  dignity  of 
true  workmanship,  the  severity  of  art  as  a  mistress,  while 
scoring  the  utilitarian  practises  of  the  journalists  and  their 
kin.  His  epigram  on  form  and  content  is  but  the  reaffirma- 
tion of  his  teachings,  that  the  Infinite  must  be  mirrored  in  the 
individual  form  of  art.  How  can  the  sun  be  painted  better 
than  in  the  trees  and  flowers?  The  old  feud  with  philosophy 
is  not  left  out  of  account — 

System  swallows  up  system — but  see,  together  with  Shake- 
speare, 
Homer  is  walking  along,  young  and  fresh  as  the  morn ! 

But  his  deadliest  shafts  he  directs  against  those  whom  he 
names  the  "secondary  people,"  that  is,  the  imitators,  those 
who  would  not  invent  art  if  it  were  not  already  invented. 
He  takes  their  word  for  it  that  they  have  to  write,  but  adds 


The  Transition  157 

that  the  world  does  not  have  to  read.  "If  you  are  a 
beggarly  fellow,  my  friend,  don't  become  a  poet.  The  most 
that  you  could  accomplish  would  be  to  develop  into  a  knave." 
Striking  deeper  at  the  root  of  the  tree  is  the  epigram 
written  "after  reading  the  obituary  of  a  German  poet" — 

Most    unfortunate    nation,    the    German — with    so    many 

talents, 
Which  it  possesses  in  none,  loses,  however,  in  each! 

When  he  addresses  those  whom  he  respects,  he  gives  some 
genuine  advice.  The  poet's  lot  has  its  bitterness,  which 
must  be  feared.  If  he  cannot  endure  blame  for  the  best  he 
does  and  praise  for  the  worst,  he  may  as  well  shatter  his 
lyre  in  the  beginning.  Or  if  he  scatters  pearls  he  should 
not  sorrow  when  the  hail  covers  them  up — the  sun  will  lay 
them  bare  again.     Or  this  other  test  is  proposed — 

Poet,  notice  this  thing,  that  beauty  thrives  on  abundance. 
If  you  have  nothing  too  much,  that  is  too  little  you  have. 

We  cannot  conclude  our  very  brief  review  of  some  of  the 
general  ideas  found  in  this  group  of  epigrams,  without  call- 
ing special  attention  to  Hebbel's  characterization  of 
modern  comedy.  "Would  you  like  to  know,"  he  says,  "why 
we  have  no  real  comedy?  Because  among  us  moderns  it  has 
been  swallowed  up  by  tragedy.  Individuals  as  such  are 
comical.  To  make  them  more  so  is  to  make  caricatures." 
This  idea,  that  modern  comedy  by  exploring  the  individual, 
encroaches  on  the  sphere  of  tragedy,  is  of  interest  in  rela- 
tion to  the  new  ideal  of  tragedy  that  he  hoped  to  exemplify 
more  and  more  in  his  future  works. 

The  historical  epigrams  are  few  in  number.  The  best 
of  them  show  the  poet's  reaction  against  the  narrow  and 
oppressive  leadership  of  his  times.  "Frederic  the  Great," 
he  says,  "tried  to  discover  the  art  of  not  sleeping.  Others 
have  discovered  the  art  of  never  waking  up."  Or,  "Stop 
your  watch,  and  imagine  that  the  evening  will  not  come ! 
Did  the  sun  ever  stop  because  the  sexton  commanded  it?" 
Seldom  has  the  point  of  view  of  mere  bureaucracy  been  more 


158         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

incisively  given  than  in  the  lines  entitled  "Tiberius'  Answer." 
They  run  as  follows:  "Great  Caesar,  you  had  Jesus  Christ 
crucified,  but  his  teaching  lives,  yes,  it  is  spread  abroad." 
"That  is  merely  Pilate's  mistake.  For  if  he  had  crucified 
the  twelve  Apostles  too,  the  whole  thing  would  have  been 
done  away  with  forever."  And  so  in  other  epigrams  the  poet 
stands  for  freedom  of  the  press,  and  satirizes  the  everlast- 
ing guardianship  exercised  over  the  people. 

The  general  lines  of  conduct  prescribed  in  the  ethical 
epigrams  are  clearly  drawn.  The  central  point  from  which 
they  may  be  regarded  as  produced  is  moral  courage  and 
honesty.  This  courage  is  necessary  first  of  all  in  our  deal- 
ing with  ourselves.  We  must  have  the  courage  to  recog- 
nize our  position  in  our  own  circle,  and  the  position  of  our 
circle  in  the  larger  sphere  of  things.  Thus  only  can  we 
overcome  the  evil  quality  of  egotism.  In  the  second  place, 
we  must  have  the  courage  of  our  convictions.  Hebbel  was 
a  firm  champion  of  moral  and  intellectual  freedom,  whether 
that  was  threatened  by  force  or  by  subtler  foes,  such  as 
flattery  and  friendship.  His  first  demand  was:  Occupy  no 
half-way  standpoint.  Be  something  out  and  out.  What 
this  had  cost  him  in  the  way  of  journalistic  support  alone 
has  already  been  explained.  "Truth,"  he  says,  "will  cost 
you  at  most  your  fortune,  but  falsehood  will  cost  you  your- 
self." "Do  what  you  will,  you  will  not  avoid  enemies,  but 
.  .  .  you  can  arm  yourself  for  the  struggle.  Make  your- 
self so  truly  the  bearer  of  what  is  good,  beautiful  and  true, 
that  no  one  can  fight  you  without  wounding  the  gods." 
Whether  in  the  ethical  or  esthetic  sphere,  the  poet  had  come 
to  demand  greater  and  greater  severity  with  oneself.  In 
these  demands  we  see  reflected  the  author  of  the  dramas. 
For  their  conflicts  are  ethical  conflicts,  and  their  heroes  and 
heroines  are  tried  by  an  absolute  inner  standard.  That 
Hebbel  regarded  his  own  works  from  this  point  of  view  is 
shown  in  what  he  says  about  them :  "They  are  too  moral ! 
For  their  moral  severity  we  are  unfortunately  too  far  re- 
moved from  Paradise,  and  we  are  not  yet  near  enough  to 
the  last  judgment  with  its  consuming  flames." 

The  personal   epigrams   are   few   in  number,   compara- 


The  Transition  159 

tively  speaking,  and  no  attempt  will  be  made  to  describe 
their  very  miscellaneous  contents.  Hebbel  included  several 
rimed  epigrams  in  his  collection,  one  of  which,  in  the  edition 
of  1848,  bore  the  peculiar  title:  Appendix  to  the  Epigrams, 
Prologue  to  these  Poems.  This  is  the  parable  of  the  old 
man  whom  the  poet  meets  on  the  road  and  to  whom  he  begins 
to  sing.  He  soon  notices,  however,  that  the  old  man  is  deaf, 
so  he  tries  to  explain  his  meaning  to  him  by  means  of  signs. 
But  he  sees  now  that  the  old  man  is  also  blind.  Hoping 
to  approach  him  in  some  way  he  hands  him  a  rose  to  smell. 
But  the  old  man  has  no  sense  of  smell.  Losing  his  patience, 
he  presses  one  of  the  thorns  into  the  old  man's  flesh.  But 
that  too  has  no  effect.     Perhaps  the  old  man  is  dead! 


CHAPTER  X 

the  kevolution.     Herod  and  Mariamne 

ON  March  the  first,  1848,  Hebbel  entered  these  words  in 
his  Diary:  "The  third  French  revolution  is  here. 
Louis  Philippe  has  been  dethroned,  the  Republic  established ! 
With  what  significance  this  event  is  fraught!"  And  just 
two  weeks  later  he  wrote  again :  "I  am  now  living  in  another 
Austria,  in  an  Austria  in  which  I  am  more  secure  than 
Prince  Metternich,  in  which  freedom  of  the  press  has  been 
proclaimed  .  .  .  and  a  constitution  promised."  Austria, 
suffering  under  Metternich  for  a  long  period  of  time  a  re- 
actionary absolutism  almost  unparalleled,  had  at  last  begun 
to  awake.  The  revolution  in  Vienna  was  a  tame  affair, 
compared  with  Paris  or  Berlin.  It  was  led  mainly  by 
students,  some  of  whom  were  among  the  first  few  victims. 
The  people  were  moderate  in  their  demands,  which  were 
conceded  at  first  without  much  opposition.  The  revolution 
was  directed  more  against  the  advisers  of  the  feeble 
Emperor  Ferdinand  than  against  himself,  though  there  was 
an  ultra-radical  party  demanding  a  republic.  These  and 
other  well  known  facts  need  no  repetition  here.  Hebbel's 
position,  however,  during  these  stormy  days  is  of  consider- 
able interest  to  us.  The  main  source  of  our  information 
on  this  subject  consists  of  the  letters  written  by  him  for 
the  Augsburg  Allgemeine  Zeitung,  on  conditions  in  Vienna 
between  March  and  December,  1848.  Something  may  also 
be  found  in  his  Diary  and  Letters. 

Before  the  revolution  Hebbel  was  taken  to  be  a  radical, 
but  almost  immediately  after  it  he  was  condemned  by  that 
party  as  a  reactionary.  He  was  thus  misunderstood  by 
both  sides.  What  he  desired  was  a  constitutional  mon- 
archy, a  government  that  would  take  the  people  into  its 
confidence.  He  made  this  demand  over  and  over  again  in 
his  censure  of  the  government's  Hungarian  policy.     He  was 

160 


The  Revolution  161 

an  outspoken  opponent  of  the  absolutism  that  prevailed 
before  March.  But  he  was  not  swept  off  his  feet  by  radical 
demands.  He  looked  on  the  revolutionary  movement  with 
the  eye  of  the  dramatist.  Whatever  abuses  had  originated 
and  found  protection  under  the  old  order,  an  order  that  had 
condemned  his  works  as  immoral  and  closed  its  theaters  to 
them,  he  knew  that  nothing  could  be  gained  by  overthrowing 
all  traditions  and  reverting  to  chaos.  Austria,  he  thought, 
was  ready  for  a  constitution,  but  not  for  a  republic. 
Whether  that  might  come  later  or  would  be  desirable,  is  left 
an  open  question  in  his  correspondence.  His  position  was 
defined  in  the  following  comparison:  the  circle  of  freedom 
must  coincide  with  the  circle  of  education.  Unless  this  is 
the  case,  either  revolution  or  barbarism  will  result  sooner  or 
later.  He  found  examples  of  both  in  Vienna  at  the  time. 
"What  assesV'  he  writes  to  Rotscher,  "are  leading  these 
revolutionists?  It  is  incredible !  I  do  not  admire  Napoleon 
half  as  much  as  I  used  to.  His  game  was  a  great  deal 
easier  than  I  thought."  Hebbel's  letters  show  that  he  had 
done  considerable  reading  on  the  main  issues,  such  as  the 
press  laws  and  the  constitution.  He  was  not  for  absolute 
freedom  of  the  press,  because  he  feared  its  abuse  by  dema- 
gogues. At  the  same  time  he  realized  the  danger  of  any 
regulation. 

This  attitude,  of  radical  among  the  conservatives,  and 
conservative  among  the  radicals,  he  upheld  with  courage, 
regardless  of  the  unpopularity,  or  even  danger,  to  which  it 
exposed  him.  His  active  share  in  events  is  also  worthy  of 
mention.  As  a  candidate  for  the  imperial  parliament  in 
Frankfort  he  was  defeated,  due,  it  is  said,  to  his  Holstein 
accent.  His  nationality,  which  he  tried  in  vain  to  change, 
prevented  him  from  running  for  the  Austrian  assemblies. 
But  he  was  a  member  of  some  important  committees.  And 
when  the  Emperor  fled  from  Vienna  to  the  more  loyal  Inns- 
bruck in  Tyrol,  Ilebbel  was  one  of  four  nominated  as  a  com- 
mission to  request  him,  in  the  name  of  the  city,  to  return. 
This  expedition,  of  which  he  has  left  an  interesting  account, 
met  with  little  real  success. 

Vienna's    famous    Burgtheater    was    also    compelled    to 


162         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

recognize  the  new  spirit.  The  director  Holbein,  says 
Hebbel,  in  trying  to  keep  pace  with  the  revolution,  "chased 
the  whole  of  modern  literature  over  the  stage  in  a  storm 
before  the  astonished  eyes  of  Old  Austria."  It  was  as  if  a 
"gouty  person  should  suddenly  get  Saint  Vitus  dance." 
Hebbel  profited  by  this  movement.  Mary  Magdalene  was 
given  at  the  Burg  on  May  8,  and  repeated  a  number  of  times 
wi'.h  successs.  Before  March,  as  the  poet  says,  the  censor- 
ship would  have  refused  it  because  its  title  reminded  one  of  the 
Bible.  This  was  no  exaggeration,  not  even  irony.  Judith 
also  found  an  enthusiastic  welcome,  with  Christine  Hebbel 
in  the  title  role.  In  April  of  the  following  year  (1849), 
the  new  drama  on  which  he  had  been  engaged  since  Febru- 
ary, 1847,  was  performed.  It  failed  signally,  though  in 
many  respects  it  is  one  of  Hebbel's  greatest  works. 

The  sources  of  this  new  tragedy,  Herod  and  Mariamne, 
were,  needless  to  say,  the  Jewish  Wars  and  the  Antiquities 
of  Josephus.  The,  theme  was  old  among  poets.  In 
Josephus,  Hebbel  found  essentially  the  following  story. 
Herod  the  Great,  while  outwardly  successful  in  all  his  under- 
takings, is  more  and  more  embittered  by  dissensions  within 
his  own  family.  His  wife  is  the  beautiful  Mariamne,  the 
last  of  the  Maccabean  women.  Mariamne's  mother, 
Alexandra,  is  his  worst  enemy,  and  endeavors  to  use  against 
him  the  office  of  high  priest,  into  which  she  has  forced  her 
son,  Aristobulus.  The  King,  fearing  the  growing  popu- 
larity of  the  young  High  Priest,  has  him  drowned.  Alex- 
andra appeals  to  Antony  for  justice,  and  Herod  is  sum- 
moned to  Egypt  to  answer  the  charge  of  murder.  Expect- 
ing death  and  unwilling  to  leave  Mariamne  behind  in  the 
world  with  an  Antony,  he  gives  his  brother-in-law,  Joseph, 
a  secret  command  to  kill  her  in  event  of  his  death.  Mari- 
amne discovers  this  secret  from  Joseph,  and  reproaches  her 
husband  with  it  upon  his  return.  According  to  the  Jewish 
War,  Herod  thereupon  suspects  Mariamne  and  Joseph  and 
has  both  executed.  But  in  the  Antiquities  he  is  convinced  of 
his  wife's  innocence  and  spares  her  life.  Just  before  he  has 
to  leave  for  the  battle  of  Actium,  he  gives  the  same  com- 
mand to   Soemus,  who  reveals  it  in  the  hopes  of  winning 


The  Revolution  163 

Mariamne's  favor.  Herod  returns,  Soemus'  betrayal  is  dis- 
covered in  the  course  of  time,  and  both  he  and  Mariamne 
are  put  to  death.  Herod  loses  his  mind  for  a  time.  Upon 
his  recovery  he  is  more  tyrannical  than  ever,  and  has  many 
of  his  relations  and  friends  executed.  Throughout  the 
account  his  violent  passion  for  Mariamne  is  emphasized, 
as  well  as  his  jealousy  of  her.  After  the  murder  of  her 
brother  she  has  no  more  love  for  him,  and  also  no  longer 
believes  in  his  love  for  her — a  very  natural  feeling,  which 
Hebbel  had  some  difficulty  in  modifying  to  suit  his  purpose. 
With  accustomed  resolution  the  poet  attacked  this  ma- 
terial and  moulded  it  to  a  well  defined  end.  Everything 
is  made  to  center  around  Herod's  gradual  transition  from  a 
great  king  to  a  desperate  tyrant.  Between  his  two  central 
figures  the  poet  imagines  a  relation  the  highest  possible  in 
human  life.     As  Herod  conceives  it: 

Two   souls  that  love  each   other   as   they   should  love 

Could  never  bear  each  other  to  outlive. 

If  I  on  some  far  battle  field  had  fallen, 

You  would  not  need  a  courier's  announcing, 

You'd   feel   that   on   the   instant  death  had  happened 

And  woundless  die  in  sentience  of  mine.1 

In  Mariamne's  soul  this  ideal  lives  in  equal  purity,  while 
Herod  kills  it  in  himself.  That  is  the  tragic  theme  in  its 
chief  personal  aspect.  The  drama  opens  as  this  process  of 
disintegration  in  Herod's  mind  has  well  begun,  and  it  leads 
us  gradually  to  the  point  where,  in  spite  of  Mariamne's 
struggle  to  prevent  it,  their  beautiful  relation  is  but  a 
shadow  of  what  it  was. 

The  character  of  Herod  furnishes  perhaps  the  most 
convenient  point  from  which  to  begin  in  discussing  the 
tragedy.  Herod  is  introduced  to  us  at  the  height  of  his 
career,  and  we  see  him  hesitating  at  a  point  from  which  he 
might  have  advanced  even  higher,  though  he  actually 
descends.     We  see  how  this  descent  is  the  resultant  of  two 


1  Three  plays  by  Friedrich  Hebbel,  translated  by  L.  H.  Allen,  Every- 
man's Library,  p.  154. 


164         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

/forces,  his  own  nature,  and  the  circumstances  he  has  to  face. 
As  to  the  first  of  these  elements,  he  is  a  strong  ruler,  a 
dominant  personality,  who  has  won  his  way  to  the  throne 
and  maintains  himself  there  by  his  energy  and  boldness. 
Up  to  the  present  a  natural  openness  has  marked  his  course, 
and  whether  friend  or  foe  he  has  been  equally  worthy  of 
admiration.  He  had  begun  with  a  great  dream  of  what  a 
strong  ruler  might  accomplish.  He  would  break  down  the 
narrow  provincialism  of  his  people  and  lead  them  out  into 
a  freer  atmosphere.  Jerusalem  should  become  a  little 
Rome.  Thus  he  pitted  himself  against  the  Jews  in  their 
most  unassailable  fortress,  that  of  their  religious  customs. 
To  such  a  conflict  there  could  be  only  one  end — his  own 
destruction.  It  is  no  mere  outward  catastrophe  that  over- 
takes him.  In  him  we  see  the  disintegration  of  a  soul.  The 
more  his  power  unfolds  from  without,  the  more  empty  is  his 
life  from  within.  He  wins  the  favor  of  the  Roman,  but 
with  it  the  hatred  of  his  subjects.  He  is  enriched  with  new 
provinces,  but  deprived  of  the  love  and  respect  of  his  wife. 

Herod's  chief  enemy  is  in  his  own  house,  Alexandra,  his 
wife's  mother.  She  incites  the  fanatical  Pharisees  against 
him,  she  tries  to  weaken  his  hold  upon  Mariamne's  love, 
she  would  even  sacrifice  her  daughter  to  the  passions  of 
Antony  in  order  to  bring  Herod  to  his  downfall.  Thus 
beset  with  innumerable  hidden  foes,  Herod  comes  into  a 
bitter  and  defiant  mood.  Comparing  himself  with  the  man 
in  the  fable,  attacked  by  the  lion  in  front,  the  tiger  from 
behind,  serpents  from  beneath,  and  the  eagle  from  above, 
he  firmly  resolves  to  lose  nothing  he  has  called  his  own.  He 
takes  the  fatal  resolution  "to  meet  each  enemy  with  his  own 
weapon."  Already  the  subtle  effect  of  deceit  appears  in  his 
actions.  He  is  irritable  and  suspicious.  He  walks  the 
streets  at  night  in  disguise,  and  he  orders  the  death  of  a 
treacherous  slave  with  a  touch  of  personal  hatred. 

Suspicious  of  everyone  else,  he  soon  begins  to  be  suspi- 
cious of  Mariamne.  His  distrust  of  her  begins  when  he 
causes  the  death  of  her  brother.  Though  this  was  done  in 
self-defense,  the  manner  in  which  it  was  done  was  entirely 
unworthy  of  him.     He  not  only  denied  it,  he  confirmed  his 


The  Revolution  165 

hypocrisy  by  mourning  for  the  dead.  He  does  not  appear 
before  his  wife  with  the  clear  conscience  of  an  impartial 
judge.  She  resents  his  robes  of  mourning  and  the  pearls 
with  which  he  showers  her  more  lavishly  than  before.  This 
attitude  shakes  her  confidence  more  than  the  actual  deed, 
terrible  as  it  was,  for  which  she  holds  Alexandra  chiefly 
responsible.  And  in  her  resentment,  Herod  finds  new 
reason  to  suspect  that  her  love  for  him  is  destroyed.  There- 
fore, in  his  blind  infatuation,  he  demands  from  her,  on  the 
eve  of  a  journey  from  which  he  may  not  return,  a  promise 
of  voluntary  death  in  that  event.  She  recognizes  the  folly 
of  such  a  promise,  as  well  as  the  doubt  that  his  wish  implies. 
Therefore  she  refuses  it  as  unworthy  of  their  relation.  In 
this  Herod  sees  a  confirmation  of  his  fears,  and  in  pursu- 
ance of  his  determination  to  hold  what  is  his  own  at  any 
cost,  he  leaves  behind  the  fatal  command.  Thus  the  deceit- 
ful forces  opposing  him,  together  with  the  dominant  egotism 
of  his  own  soul,  lead  him  into  a  complete  confusion  of 
spiritual  values,  and  he  can  no  longer  see  the  futility  of 
using  force  to  keep  possession  of  his  wife,  a  possession  lost 
only  by  his  efforts  to  retain  it. 

In  this  and  subsequent  scenes  between  the  two  principal 
characters,  Hebbel  had  a  very  difficult  problem  to  solve. 
There  are  moments  when  a  single  impulsive  outburst  of  love 
on  the  part  of  either  would  at  once  clear  up  every  misunder- 
standing, which  is  preserved  only  by  the  insistence  of  each 
on  a  particular  point.  Mariamne  intends  to  die  if  her 
husband  meets  death,  but  she  conceals  her  intention  because 
he  demands  the  sacrifice.  A  word  from  her  would  satisfy 
him,  but  he  cannot  have  faith  without  that  assurance. 
Hebbel  has  often  been  reproached  with  having  here  created 
unnatural  persons  and  an  unnatural  situation.  Under 
ordinary  conditions  this  would  be  true.  But  he  does  not 
present  his  characters  to  us  under  ordinary  conditions. 
Both  of  them  are  in  a  peculiarly  sensitive  state  of  mind. 
Each  expects  a  concession  and  encounters  a  demand. 
Mariamne,  having  stood  the  severest  test  of  her  love  in  the 
death  of  her  brother,  now  finds  that  love  doubted.  Herod, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  suspicious  and  jealous,  and  hence  sees 


166         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

in  her  every  word  only  what  he  expects  and  fears.  Her 
restraint  he  mistakes  for  coldness,  her  warning,  for  an  at- 
tempt to  deceive.  His  deed  avenges  itself,  and  in  spite  of 
all  both  may  do  or  say,  it  is  the  ghost  of  Aristobulus  that 
stands  between  them. 

By  the  end  of  the  first  act  the  dramatic  theme  is  clearly 
defined.  The  second  act  shows  us  the  plottings  of  Alex- 
andra with  the  fanatical  Sameas  against  the  absent  King, 
and  especially  Mariamne's  discovery  of  Joseph's  secret. 
Joseph  believes  that  if  Herod  dies  at  Antony's  hands  and 
Alexandra  and  Mariamne  come  to  power  through  Antony's 
influence,  his  own  life  will  be  endangered  because  of  his 
supposed  share  in  Aristobulus'  death.  Being  therefore 
eager  to  kill  both  of  his  enemies  as  soon  as  the  time  arrives, 
he  ruins  everything  by  his  too  great  zeal.  He  arouses  the 
suspicion  of  Mariamne  and  the  foolish  jealousy  of  Salome, 
his  wife.  His  miscalculation  is  fatal,  and  just  when  he  is 
preparing  to  strike,  Herod  returns.  In  the  streets  the 
King  finds  an  open  riot,  in  the  palace  an  indignant  wife  and 
a  jealous  sister.  Without  a  word  he  has  Joseph  beheaded 
for,  as  he  supposes,  betraying  his  secret,  and  then  faces 
Mariamne  in  a  vain  attempt  to  justify  his  actions.  In  the 
midst  of  this,  the  third  act,  a  messenger  arrives  summoning 
Herod  to  Antony's  aid  at  the  battle  of  Actium.  Mariamne 
regards  this  as  a  miracle,  as  another  lease  on  love,  a  chance 
for  him  to  make  good  his  past  wrong.  But  in  keeping  with 
her  proud  nature,  she  leaves  him  to  find  his  own  solution. 
She  restrains  her  feelings  in  the  hope  that  he  will  under- 
stand them  of  himself  and  thus  fully  meet  the  test.  But 
Herod  is  further  from  this  than  before.  He  repeats  his 
offense,  this  time  selecting  Soemus  for  the  executioner.  And 
again  he  misses  his  reckoning.  Soemus,  a  generous  and 
loyal  friend,  receives  the  cunning  commission  with  amaze- 
ment and  abhorrence.  The  fact  that  he  expresses  neither 
measures  his  estimate  of  the  change  that  has  come  over 
Herod.  Recognizing  the  futility  of  a  protest,  he  hopes  at 
least  to  save  Mariamne  from  another  executioner,  and  is 
silent.  When  he  feels  assured  of  Herod's  death  he  reveals  his 
secret  to  the  Queen — a  sign  of  the  respect,  or  even  the  love, 


The  Revolution  167 

he  has  for  her.  In  his  delineation  of  Soemus,  Hebbel  rein- 
forces his  main  theme  and  gives  the  drama  a  broader  signifi- 
cance. Again,  with  singular  fortune,  involving  no  sacrifice 
of  his  loyalty,  Herod  escapes  death  in  the  catastrophe  at 
Actium,  is  taken  into  Octavius'  favor,  and  returns  to 
Jerusalem  with  greater  prestige  than  ever  before.  But  his 
own  happiness  is  lost  beyond  recall.  The  fourth  act  shows 
us  these  events,  with  the  sentence  of  death  upon  Soemus, 
while  the  fifth  brings  the  trial  and  execution  of  Mariamne, 
with  Herod's  subsequent  discovery  of  her  innocence,  and 
his  own  despair. 

If  Mariamne  were  a  saint,  like  Genoveva,  the  tragic  situ- 
ation would  find  a  less  pointed  expression.  But  she  is  no 
saint,  nor  is  she  meant  to  be  one.  She  is  fully  conscious  of 
what  is  due  her,  whether  as  a  beautiful  woman,  or  a  queen 
by  birth  and  position.  She  does  not  leave  her  jewels  un- 
worn nor  her  power  unused.  She  disdains  deception  of 
every  kind,  defies  her  mother,  openly  despises  Herod's  sister, 
Salome,  and  her  husband,  the  timid  Joseph.  Her  feelings 
are  deep  and  locked  in  her  heart.  "She  cannot  weep — her 
drawn  face  tells  what  in  others  finds  the  vent  of  tears."2 
She  is  the  woman  to  die  with  her  husband,  just  as  she  is  the 
woman  to  resent  any  forcing  of  her  will  in  such  an  issue. 
Her  temperament  must  doubly  feel  an  injury  such  as  is  done 
her.  The  poet  has  gifted  her  with  his  swift  intelligence, 
which  cannot  be  deceived,  and  with  an  inflexible  moral  char- 
acter, which  cannot  be  turned  aside  from  its  course.  She 
is  possessed  of  the  surest  feelings  for  what  is  going  on  about 
her.  It  is  in  vain  that  Herod  erects  hedges  of  secrecy 
around  his  order  for  her  execution.  Joseph  is  a  mere  play- 
thing in  her  hands.  Before  he  is  aware  of  it  he  has  so  in- 
volved himself  in  contradictions,  that  no  course  remains  to 
him  but  open  confession.  That  scene  is  a  masterpiece  of 
unconscious  self-revelation  of  a  lower  to  a  higher  intelli- 
gence. But  the  most  imposing  thing  in  Mariamne  is  her 
unswerving  fidelity  to  her  love  as  long  as  there  is  the  slight- 
est hope  of  saving  it,  and  after  that  to  her  own  sense  of 


*  Allen:  Hebbel's  Plays. 


168         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

what  is  her  necessary  course  of  action.  Over  and  over  she 
attempts  to  recall  Herod  to  himself  again,  she  hopes 
against  hope,  and  seems  at  times  almost  deliberately  to 
close  her  eyes  in  self-deception.  Among  the  most  touching 
situations  in  the  drama,  is  where  her  confidence  in  Herod's 
better  self  gains  strength  on  the  eve  of  his  second  departure. 
The  spectator  cannot  be  in  doubt  as  to  the  King's  intended 
action,  and  if  doubt  were  possible  the  last  vestige  is  speedily 
destroyed.  It  is  in  vain  that  Mariamne  keeps  Soemus  out 
of  her  presence,  for  the  very  fear  that  he  might  have  a 
secret  which  she  knows  would  mean  her  death.  Nothing 
can  stay  the  moment  that  is  approaching,  when  she  learns 
with  certainty  that  all  is  lost,  that  in  Herod's  eyes  she  has 
been  a  mere  possession,  and  for  her  the  present,  past,  and 
future  are  swallowed  up   in  nothingness. 

Hebbel  has  been  much  criticised  for  following  the  ac- 
count of  the  Antiquities  and  including  in  his  tragedy  the 
repetition  of  the  fatal  command.  But  he  had  very  good 
reasons  for  doing  that.  In  the  second  command  is  a  motive 
entirely  absent  in  the  first.  Herod  wishes  to  make  a  direct 
test  of  Mariamne's  fidelity.  She  had  refused  to  defend  her- 
self against  the  blind  jealousy  of  Salome,  and  Herod's  mind, 
poisoned  as  it  was,  was  unable  to  quiet  all  suspicion.  In 
selecting  Soemus  he  supposed  he  had  a  man  whom  he  could 
trust  absolutely.  If  his  wife  enticed  the  secret  from 
Soemus,  it  could  be,  he  imagined,  only  at  the  sole  price  of 
herself.  This  motive  is  the  most  effective  means  the  poet 
could  have  used  to  portray  the  progressive  degradation  of 
Herod's  character.  It  also  makes  clear  the  necessity  of 
Mariamne's  inexorable  course  at  the  end.  And  if  there  was 
any  risk  of  losing  interest  through  repetition,  Hebbel  has 
more  than  avoided  that.  By  skilful  variation  of  the  scenes 
he  gains  suspense  at  every  point. 

Mariamne's  final  revenge  is  terrible.  All  the  fury  of  a 
wounded  love  bursts  forth,  so  much  the  more  irresistible  in 
its  sweep  as  it  proceeds  from  a  deep  and  passionate  nature. 
As  Hebbel  says,  at  the  end  her  love  borrows  the  form  of 
hate.  Herod  has  suspected  her  of  infidelity,  he  shall  see 
her  in  reality  as  he  has  seen  her  in  his  mind.     Others  may 


The  Revolution  169 

believe  in  his  death.  She  knows  his  resourcefulness  too 
well.  She  prepares  a  brilliant  festival  at  which  she  dances 
with  Soemus.  No  one  comprehends  her  actions.  She  seems 
to  be  celebrating  her  husband's  death.  In  this  situation 
the  King  finds  her.  He  believes  at  first  that  his  messenger 
has  come  before  him  and  that  his  return  is  being  honored. 
But  Mariamne's  words  and  actions  at  once  dispel  this  hope, 
which  gives  place  to  rage  in  his  heart.  The  poet  never 
created  a  scene  of  more  threatening  aspect  and  more 
dramatic  solution  than  Mariamne's  festival  and  dance,  when 
bitter  woe  is  forced  for  the  time  to  take  on  the  mask  of  wild 
revelry.  The  one  object  she  desires  is  gained — her  death 
sentence  at  her  husband's  hands. 

After  her  execution,  the  King,  through  the  testimony  of 
Titus  and  Alexandra,  awakens  to  the  realization  of  her 
innocence.  This  discovery  falls  on  him  with  crushing  force. 
Mariamne's  death  destroys  the  last  trace  of  human  kind- 
ness in  his  heart.  His  renewed  determination  to  hold  what 
he  has  left  is  but  a  vain  attempt  to  drown  his  own  despair. 
The  tragedy  closes  with  an  ironical  glance  into  the  future. 
Three  Kings  from  the  East  enter  to  inquire  about  a  wonder- 
ful child  of  the  race  of  David,  who  is  to  become  King. 
Herod,  failing  to  obtain  definite  information  from  them, 
sends  out  his  men  to  slay  all  children  born  in  that  year.  A 
last  futile  effort  to  hold  by  violence  what  he  possesses.  As 
nothing  in  Mariamne's  life  had  been  able  to  recall  him  to  his 
better  self,  so  her  death  cannot.  Much  in  him  was  noble 
and  good,  but  tyranny  has  degraded  him  until  his  ruin  is 
complete. 

Hebbel  did  not  intend,  in  this  drama,  to  write  the 
tragedy  of  individuals  alone,  but  that  of  an  epoch  in  human 
history.  Tyranny  is  self-destructive  in  Herod,  as  despotism 
is  self-destructive  in  Herod's  age.  In  him  and  with  him  we 
see  the  old  order  decay.  Mariamne  and  Soemus  relinquish 
their  lives  for  a  principle  in  harmony,  at  least,  with  the  new 
spirit  that  was  ushered  in  so  quietly  at  the  close  of  Herod's 
dominion.  In  them  the  value  of  the  soul  is  vindicated,  and 
an  indestructible  boundary  established  between  people  and 
things.     The    connection    between    this    thought    and    the 


170         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

thought  of  to-day  needs  no  emphasis,  and  the  poet,  whose 
words  sounded  strange  to  his  own  generation,  became  a 
prophet  for  the  next. 

Hebbel  declared  that  this  drama  was  the  first  of  his 
works  entirely  in  harmony  with  his  stage  of  development  at 
the  time  of  composition.  In  more  than  one  place  he  dated 
from  its  production  a  new  epoch  in  his  literary  life.  The 
first  period,  he  writes  in  a  letter  to  Saint  Rene  Taillandier, 
"extends  from  Judith  to  Herod,  and  embraces  the  time  of 
struggle.  The  second  extends  from  Herod  till  the  present 
time  (August,  1852),  and  had  a  forerunner  in  my  lyric 
poetry.  The  works  of  the  first  period  are,  to  be  sure, 
volcanic  and  sanguinary,  but  the  fire  is  genuine  .  .  .  and 
the  blood  is  my  own  .  .  .  The  works  of  the  second  period 
move  in  a  different  sphere  and  prove,  I  hope,  that  my 
struggle  was  not  in  vain."  The  ideal  in  Hebbel's  mind 
during  his  work  on  Herod  and  Mariamne  is  definitely  stated 
by  him  in  a  letter  to  Kiihne  (March,  1850).  "In  this  work 
I  have  attempted  in  the  strictest  sense  to  carry  out  the  con- 
ception of  necessity,  .  .  .  and  of  a  necessity  which,  as  is 
fitting  in  the  historical  tragedy,  proceeds  simultaneously 
from  inner  and  outer  conditions.  In  so  doing  I  have  set 
myself  the  task  of  making  the  form  as  simple  as  possible,  of 
subduing  both  the  larger  historical  masses  that  form  the 
factors  of  the  psychological  process,  and  also  the  details  of 
secondary  persons  and  situations.  For  I  am  convinced 
that  from  the  style  of  Shakespeare  and  that  of  the  Greeks 
a  middle  term  must  be  obtained."  Hebbel  believed  that 
Shakespeare's  wealth  of  detail  was  a  fault  in  composition, 
which  might  be  pardoned  in  him  alone,  whereas  the  Greek 
form,  on  the  other  hand,  did  not  provide  sufficiently  for  the 
development  of  character.  He  seems  to  have  been  striving 
for  the  simplicity,  directness,  and  clear  perspective  of  the 
one  form,  without  sacrificing  to  too  great  an  extent  the 
depth  and  passion  of  the  other.  If  we  compare,  for  ex- 
ample, his  treatment  of  the  populace  of  Jerusalem  with  his 
treatment  of  the  populace  of  Bethulia  in  Judith,  we  see  what 
he  means.  In  one  case  the  people  are  brought  before  us  at 
length,  in  the  other  we  only  feel  their  presence  in  the  back- 


The  Revolution  171 

ground  as  a  persistent  and  ominous  threat.  So  the  Three 
Kings  pass  before  us  like  "wax  figures,"  as  Bamberg  ob- 
served, with  Hebbel's  full  approval.  The  main  scenes  were 
to  be  full  and  vivid,  the  rest  vanishing,  so  that  the  "divine 
antagonist,"  that  is,  the  representative  of  the  Universal, 
could  have  more  room. 

Thus  what  Otto  Ludwig3  condemns  in  Julia,  as  an  effort 
to  combine  the  three  most  irreconcilable  elements :  modern 
theme,  antique  simplicity,  and  vivid  characterization,  Heb- 
bel  does  actually  make  his  goal,  though  the  material  is  no 
longer  modern  in  the  sense  that  Julia  is.  And  with 
customary  decision  he  stakes  his  whole  future  on  the  con- 
viction that  this  goal  is  unique  in  the  history  of  the  drama. 

The  new  work,  as  we  have  seen,  failed  completely  at  its 
only  presentation  in  April,  1849.  Its  reception  by  the 
critics  was  not  much  more  appreciative.  Hebbel  consoled 
himself  with  the  idea  that  his  tragedy  was  too  new  and  too 
compact  for  the  audience  to  comprehend  at  once,  all  the 
more  so  as  the  public  had  become  less  and  less  accustomed 
to  see  a  drama  as  an  organic  whole.  It  has  never  become 
one  of  his  most  popular  works. 


8  Gesammelte  Schriften,  Leipzig  1891,  Vol.  V,  p.  358. 


CHAPTER  XI 

SOME   DISAPPOINTMENTS.       HEINRICH   LAUBE   AND   THE    CRITICS 

BY  May,  1849,  another  work  had  been  finished,  under 
the  title  of  The  Ruby.  This  was  the  dramatization  of  a 
fairy-tale  of  the  poet's  own  invention,  belonging  to  a  period 
of  more  than  ten  years  past.  It  had  already  been  pub- 
lished in  prose  form  (1843).  In  tone  and  incident  it  places 
us  in  the  world  of  the  Arabian  Nights.  The  scene  is  laid 
in  Bagdad,  the  main  persons  are  a  Sultan,  Fatima,  his 
daughter,  one  of  the  benevolent  genii,  and  the  hero,  Assad. 
Fatima  has  been  changed  by  an  evil  magician  into  a  ruby, 
and  from  this  form  she  can  be  released  only  by  the  simplest 
and  yet  the  most  unlikely  condition,  that  the  person  happen- 
ing to  possess  the  ruby  throw  it  away.  How  circumstances 
bring  Assad  into  this  possession  and  finally  lead  him  to  the 
solution,  is  the  theme  of  the  story.  The  dramatization  is 
not  very  successful,  and  we  lay  the  work  aside  feeling  that 
Hebbel  is  out  of  his  proper  sphere.  For  this  type  his 
talent  lacked  the  necessary  vivacity.  Vienna  especially  was 
accustomed  through  its  own  poets  to  more  color  and  a 
lighter  fancy  in  such  works.  The  serious  North  German 
was  no  match  for  the  versatile  extravagance  of  Raimund, 
who  wrote  with  the  abandon  of  Shakespeare.  The  Ruby 
was  given  three  times  at  the  Burgtheater  and  then  with- 
drawn as  a  failure.  Unfortunately  Hebbel  reviewed  the 
performance  in  the  Imperial  News  (Reichszeitung),  the 
Literary  Review  of  which  he  was  then  editing,  and  while 
conceding  that  everything  had  been  done  by  actors  and 
management  to  give  his  work  a  fair  chance,  he  could  not 
refrain  from  suggesting  that  the  public  possibly  was  not  far 
enough  advanced  to  appreciate  it.  His  enemies  were  not 
slow  to  use  this  opportunity.  They  ridiculed  him  and 
accused  him  of  arrogance  and  conceit,  and  a  number  of 
verses  found  wide  circulation  in  the  papers,  under  the  sig- 
nificant title:  God  Hebbel  to  the  Stupid  Public. 

172 


Some  Disappointments  173 

While  his  enemies  were  thus  rejoicing  over  him,  Hebbel 
was  working  on  a  drama  which  it  must  forever  be  regretted 
that  he  did  not  finish :  Moloch.  The  first  act  had  been  done 
in  1849,  the  second  in  1850,  and  though  the  remaining  parts 
are  more  or  less  fragmentary  scenes  and  notes,  these  two 
acts  alone  are  more  valuable  than  the  completed  Julia  and 
Ruby  together.  As  the  name  indicates,  the  hero  of  this 
work  is  the  iron  god  of  Carthage.  Its  plan  is  one  of  the 
boldest  ever  conceived,  and  even  the  partial  execution  re- 
veals an  undertaking  of  grand  proportions.  Moloch  was 
to  symbolize  the  birth  of  religion  in  the  human  race,  the 
transition  from  barbarism  to  civilization,  a  theme  Hebbel 
had  been  busied  with  since  1867.  Only  the  opening  scenes 
of  the  play  were  published,  in  Kuhne's  Europa  (1847),  and 
met  with  almost  universal  condemnation,  due  perhaps  to 
their  fragmentary  condition. 

After  the  destruction  of  Carthage  by  Rome,  the  aged 
Hieram,  accompanied  by  a  number  of  sailors  and  bearing  the 
huge  image  of  Moloch,  escapes  in  a  ship  to  the  shores  of 
Thule.  He  himself  has  no  faith  in  the  image,  because  of  its 
failure  to  aid  Carthage  in  the  death  struggle  against  her 
enemies,  but  he  intends  to  use  it  as  a  means  in  accomplishing 
his  object  among  the  uncivilized  inhabitants  of  Thule. 
These  he  is  determined  to  inspire  with  a  hatred  of  Rome. 
In  order  to  make  his  arrival  the  more  mysterious,  he  has  the 
ship  destroyed  and  kills  all  his  companions  in  their  sleep. 
One,  however,  he  spares,  and  sacrifices  him  before  the  image 
just  as  the  barbarians  enter  the  grove  where  it  stands.  The 
King's  son,  Teut,  sees  in  these  strange  visitors  a  fulfilment 
of  his  dreams,  and  he  is  hence  immediately  won  over  to 
Hieram's  cause.  It  is  he  who  overthrows  the  stubborn 
opposition  of  his  mighty  father,  the  old  Teut,  and  prevents 
the  destruction  of  Hieram  and  the  statue.  The  old  King 
retires  in  sullen  anger  to  a  cave,  where  he  dwells  apart, 
attended  alone  by  Theoda,  a  young  girl  whom  his  son  loves. 

Hieram  now  establishes  the  sacred  grove  of  Moloch  and 
surrounds  the  god  with  deep  mystery.  Besides  himself  no 
one  is  allowed  to  enter  the  divine  precincts,  on  pain  of  being 
immediately   struck  down  by   supernatural   means,   and  he 


174         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

claims  to  receive  each  night  the  revelations  which  he  writes 
down  in  a  book.  The  young  King  is  instructed  in  the  art  of 
reading,  so  that  he  can  see  these  communications  with  his 
own  eyes.  Hieram  teaches  the  Teutons  to  cut  down  their 
forests,  to  cultivate  grain,  and  to  plant  fruit-trees  of  all 
kinds.  This  knowledge,  which  he  has  brought  with  him  from 
Carthage,  he  disseminates  as  the  continual  revelation  of 
Moloch.  In  a  few  years  the  country  and  people  are  trans- 
formed, and  Hieram's  power  is  at  its  highest  point.  So 
much  of  the  drama  is  complete  in  the  first  two  acts. 

The  remainder  of  the  plan  is  more  or  less  clearly  dis- 
cernible. Theoda,  hunting  a  stag  at  night,  enters  the  sacred 
grove  unawares,  and  there  sees  the  dreaded  image  with 
Hieram  asleep  at  its  feet.  The  priest,  having  discovered 
her  presence,  and  fearing  that  she  will  betray  him,  demands 
her  death  at  Teut's  hands  under  the  pretense  of  divine  will. 
The  young  king,  accustomed  to  follow  Hieram  in  everything, 
gives  his  consent,  but  at  the  last  moment  finds  himself  unable 
to  carry  out  the  command.  From  Theoda  he  learns  of  her 
escape  from  the  sacred  grove  and  resolves  to  test  the  matter 
for  himself.  In  this  way  he  discovers  the  deception  that 
Hieram  has  been  practising  on  him  and  his  people.  From 
here  on  the  outlines  grow  fainter.  Hieram  has  apparently 
been  waiting  for  the  moment  when  he  can  step  forth  from  his 
mask  and  reveal  to  the  people  the  true  connection  of  events. 
When  Teut  calls  him  to  account,  he  is  so  angered  at  the 
blindness  of  his  favorite  disciple  as  to  lose  himself  for  the 
moment  and  strike  the  image  of  Moloch  as  if  to  break  it  in 
pieces.  But  the  Moloch  cult  has  gone  beyond  his  control, 
it  has  made  so  deep  an  impression  on  the  people  that  he  is 
unable  to  deprive  it  of  its  supernatural  influence.  He  has 
in  reality  become  what  he  pretended  to  be — the  servant  of 
Moloch.  All  of  this  is  merely  suggested.  Nowhere  has  it 
taken  on  real  form.  Hebbel's  intention  seems  to  have  been 
to  let  Hieram  return  to  his  old  faith  in  the  power  symbolized 
by  the  idol.  At  any  rate,  the  Priest  casts  himself  into  the 
sea  as  a  voluntary  expiation  for  his  effort  to  shatter  the 
image. 

The  young  King,  however,  whose  faith  has  been  broken, 


Some  Disappointments  175 

goes  to  liberate  his  father,  and  acknowledge  that  he  was  in 
the  wrong  from  the  first.  The  old  man  accepts  his  offer, 
and  comes  forth  from  his  seclusion,  determined  to  punish  his 
son's  rebellion  with  death.  But  he  is  struck  with  wonder  by 
the  change  that  has  come  over  the  country,  and  exclaims: 
"My  son,  there  are  gods!  Could  we  have  accomplished 
this?"  And  thus  the  Moloch  cult  is  established  more  firmly 
than  before. 

Apart  from  slight  suggestions  received  perhaps  from 
Hoffmann  and  Zacharias  Werner,  the  unique  conception 
underlying  this  fragment  is  an  invention  of  Hebbel,  and  the 
execution  is  successful  as  far  as  it  extends.*  The  most  im- 
pressive figure  is  that  of  Hieram,  who  dominates  the  scene 
with  his  inexorable  will.  His  monstrous  act  in  the  slaughter 
of  his  companions  assumes,  under  the  influence  of  his  words 
and  manner,  a  sort  of  terrible  sublimity,  as  if  it  were  sanc- 
tioned by  a  higher  power,  and  the  supernatural  qualities 
which  he  ascribes  to  Moloch  seem  to  inhere  in  his  own  mind. 
The  awe  with  which  the  barbarians  regard  him  is  easily 
comprehensible. 

The  Moloch  fragment  is  Hebbel's  best  expression  of  his 
feelings  about  religion.  He  had  claimed,  without  much 
foundation  to  be  sure,  to  have  symbolized  the  Jewish  religion 
in  Judith,  and  Christianity  in  Genoveva,  in  their  historical 
significance.  He  had  come  much  nearer  indicating  the  impor- 
tance of  the  dawn  of  Christianity  in  Herod  and  Mariamne. 
But  in  Moloch  he  gave  expression,  in  a  sense,  to  the  universal 
religious  feeling  of  the  race.  He  lent  great  emphasis  to 
this  expression  by  employing  a  helpless  image  and  a  bar- 
barous service,  for  Moloch  demanded  human  sacrifices.  Yet, 
in  spite  of  all  this,  it  met  a  fundamental  need  of  the  people 
who  worshipped  it,  and  thus  grew  into  a  sj^mbol  of  a  power 
at  the  same  time  within  them  and  above  them.  He  thus 
assumed  the  existence  of  such  a  religious  consciousness  in 


*  Since  this  book  went  to  press,  Professor  Lessing  has  called  the 
author's  attention  to  the  striking  similarity  in  idea  between  Moloch  and 
Klinger's  Medea  auf  dem  Kaukasus.  Both  writers  portray  the  elemental 
power  of  religion,  though  Klinger  is  concerned  with  its  destructive 
tendencies. 


176         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

man,  independent  of  the  particular  objects  to  which  it  may 
attach  itself.  And  the  awakening  of  this  consciousness 
marks  the  beginning  of  civilization,  according  to  this  work. 
Would  man  ever  outgrow  this  state,  or  had  he  perhaps 
already  outgrown  it?  Hebbel  once  suggested  the  possibility 
of  this,  and  as  far  as  he  was  personally  concerned,  art  was 
his  religion,  if  such  an  expression  may  be  allowed. 

Hebbel's  attitude  to  religion  has  been  variously  dis- 
cussed. He  has  himself  summed  up  the  matter  in  letters 
to  his  friend,  the  poet  Friedrich  Uechtritz,  and  in  others  to 
Pastor  Luck,  letters  written,  however,  some  years  after  the 
Moloch  fragment.  They  all  present  the  same  standpoint. 
In  his  opinion  there  were  three  ways  of  approaching  the 
Infinite — religion,  philosophy,  and  art.  His  way  was  art. 
Just  as  he  never  formulated  a  definite  philosophy,  so  he 
had  no  precise  religion.  He  regarded  'Christianity  as  a 
symbol,  just  as  Moloch  was  a  symbol.  It  was,  of  course,  a 
far  higher  and  more  adequate  symbol,  it  embodied  much 
more  of  that  primal  religious  feeling  in  the  human  breast, 
but  it  was  not  to  be  identified  with  absolute  religion.  Hebbel 
saw  that  the  issue  in  modern  times  was  not  about  this  or 
that  religion,  but  about  all  religion.  Are  we,  with  our 
spiritual  pretensions,  after  all  merely  another  illustration 
of  the  inexorable  laws  of  nature?  Hebbel  understood  what 
the  teaching  of  Feuerbach  meant,  or  perhaps  he  was  more 
alarmed  by  the  soulless  materialism  of  Feuerbach's  dis- 
ciples. At  any  rate,  he  took  his  stand  against  the  whole 
movement.  At  bottom  he  was  a  mystic,  if  that  means  a 
denial  of  reason  as  the  revealer  of  supreme  truth.  He  took 
his  stand  for  spiritualism,  in  these  letters,  on  the  fact  of 
conscience.  Conscience,  he  thinks,  cannot  be  explained  as 
the  mere  instinct  of  race  preservation.  The  universal  ele- 
ment of  conscience  is :  avoid  evil,  do  good.  This  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  particular  conceptions  of  good  and  evil, 
which  of  course  vary  with  the  circumstances.  Conscience, 
therefore,  is  his  guarantee  that  "there  is  a  place  where 
the  unapproachable  abyss  of  the  world  .  .  .  can  be  plainly 
perceived,  and  that  is  the  human  breast."  But  every  at- 
tempt to  solve  the  riddle  of  the  world,  whether  by  dogma  or 


Some  Disappointments  177 

reason,  "is  a  tragedy  of  thought."  We  can  never  see  the  / 
heart  of  the  world,  and  each  should  be  allowed  to  interpret  j 
the  pulse-beat  for  himself.  In  this  figure  he  expresses  his 
final  conviction  that  belief  should  be  free.  Art  has  this 
advantage,  he  thinks,  over  both  religion  and  philosophy,  that 
it  does  not  attempt  to  explain  the  mystery  of  life,  but  to 
symbolize  it.  Just  what  he  meant  by  this,  we  shall  see  later 
in  our  discussion  of  his  views  on  realism. 

Conscious  all  the  while  of  the  purest  motives  in  what  he 
had  undertaken,  Hebbel  saw  himself  consistently  opposed, 
sometimes  in  good  faith,  but,  as  he  believed,  more  often 
maliciously.  He  had  recognized  the  importance  of  the 
reviewers  and  the  critics  as  mediators  between  the  author 
and  the  public,  and  had  done  what  he  could  in  honor  to  win 
them.  It  had  been  in  vain.  Characteristically  he  began 
to  seek  the  deeper  meaning  of  this  state  of  affairs.  The 
result  was  a  pretty  two-act  drama,  entitled  Michelangelo, 
written  down  in  about  thirty  days  near  the  close  of  1850. 
This  work,  while  it  was  naturally  taken  to  be  an  answer  to 
his  enemies,  he  meant  to  be  an  answer  to  a  much  larger 
question — why  genius  meets  with  opposition. 

Michelangelo  has  finished  a  statue  of  Jupiter  in  entire 
secrecy.  The  Duke  comes  to  order  just  such  a  piece  of 
work.  During  their  conversation  he  taunts  the  sculptor 
with  his  supposed  unwillingness  to  learn  from  the  Greeks, 
and  his  arrogance  in  imagining  himself  superior  to  them. 
Michelangelo,  vexed  with  the  insincerity  and  injustice  of 
such  criticism,  which  he  has  been  forced  too  often  to  hear, 
resolves  to  give  the  Duke  and  his  other  detractors  a  lesson. 
That  night  he  has  his  Jupiter  buried  in  secret  on  the  Capi- 
toline  Hill,  where  he  knows  excavations  will  be  made  on  the 
morrow.  First,  however,  he  takes  the  precaution  to  darken 
the  marble  and  break  off  an  arm,  which  he  keeps  in  his 
possession.  When  the  statue  is  found,  the  Duke  comes  with 
various  well  known  artists  and  critics,  who  go  into  raptures 
over  the  new  discovery,  and  dispute  with  one  another  about 
its  date  and  author.  Michelangelo,  when  summoned,  is 
reserved  in  his  comments.  This  is  interpreted  by  his  critics 
as  jealousy,  and  the  Duke  challenges  him  to  replace  even 


178         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

the  lost  arm  if  he  can.  If  he  can  do  that  he  shall  receive 
the  price  of  the  whole  figure.  Thereupon  he  draws  the  arm 
from  beneath  his  cloak  and  fits  it  to  the  statue.  His  enemies 
are  thus  confounded  by  the  truth.  He  explains  to  them  the 
shortcomings  of  his  work  in  comparison  with  the  Greek 
masters,  and  then  bursts  into  a  passionate  discourse  upon 
the  envy  and  jealousy  nourished  by  the  mediocre  against 
men  of  talent.  It  is  the  duty  of  each  to  recognize  those 
above  him,  and  he  gladly  bows  to  the  genius  of  a  Phidias, 
but  it  is  no  less  his  duty  to  exact  recognition  from  those  below 
him.  With  this  defiant  statement  he  closes.  But  Pope 
Julius,  who  witnesses  this  scene,  addresses  a  mild  speech 
to  the  indignant  artist.  The  problem,  he  says,  is  the  same 
as  the  problem  of  evil  in  the  world.  As  God  endures  the 
Devil  and  his  hosts,  so  the  artist  can  endure  the  envious 
swarm  who  attempt  in  vain  to  check  his  triumphant  course. 
He  need  not  return  their  hate  with  hate.  He  conquers  them 
at  last  by  ignoring  them. 

Hebbel  had  every  reason  to  take  such  teaching  to  heart. 
If  he  had  imagined  immediately  after  the  revolution,  that 
he  would  acquire  influence  in  the  world  of  letters,  and  thus 
indirectly  in  national  life,  he  now  saw  himself  bitterly  dis- 
appointed. At  one  time  he  dreamed  of  being  Holbein's 
adviser  at  the  Burgtheater,  practically  on  his  own  condi- 
tion. Englander  had  publicly  suggested  the  advisability  of 
that  as  the  best  means  of  restoring  the  prestige  of  the  Burg. 
And  in  accepting  the  editorship  of  the  Literary  Review  of 
the  Austrian  Imperial  News,  he  perhaps  had  hopes  of  giving 
a  new  impulse  and  direction  to  literary  criticism  in  Germany. 
But  his  impartiality  had  only  made  him  more  feared  and 
hated.  Matters  even  came  to  the  point  that  a  demonstra- 
tion was  made  against  him  in  the  theater.  Friction  with 
his  co-editor,  and  general  dissatisfaction  with  the  political 
policy  of  the  paper,  came  as  an  additional  reason  why  he 
tired  of  the  undertaking  and  gave  it  up  at  the  end  of  a  few 
months  (March,  1850). 

He  had  been  also  much  disappointed  by  the  reactionary 
policy  of  the  new  Emperor,  Francis  Joseph,  who  had  come 
to  power  in  December,  1848,  at  the  age  of  eighteen  years. 


Some  Disappointments  179 

"Concerning  conditions  here  I  will  say  nothing,"  he  wrote 
to  Bamberg  in  February,  1850.  "Thanks  to  the  insane 
radicals  we  have  been  thrown  back  pretty  far.  Yet  one 
should  not  be  unjust.  Every  newspaper  proves  that  there 
is  a  world  of  difference  between  the  Austria  of  to-day  and 
that  before  March.  And  everybody  who  does  not  confound 
top  with  bottom,  will  shudder  at  such  a  state  of  affairs  as 
that  desired  by  Messrs.  Tausenau,  Englander  and  others. 
Personally  I  suffer  most  from  the  change,  for  my  dramatic 
activity  is  paralyzed  again  for  a  long  time  to  come.  But 
I  shall  certainly  not  change  my  view  of  the  world  because  I 
am  treated  with  injustice  and  ingratitude.  I  received  the 
same  treatment  too  from  the  radicals  in  184*8,  and  this  will 
happen  to  any  one  who  has  a  sense  for  history  and  does  not 
live  by  the  newspaper."  The  Englander  referred  to  in  this 
letter  was  the  same  young  author  who  had  welcomed  Hebbel 
to  Vienna  with  such  enthusiasm.  His  ultra-radical  activi- 
ties in  1848  compromised  the  poet,  and  brought  about  a 
temporary  estrangement  between  the  two.  By  the  end  of 
the  year  (1850)  the  theaters  seemed,  as  Hebbel  says,  "for 
general  reasons  to  be  falling  back  completely  into  their 
old  dependence  on  the  police  system."  To  help  the  drama 
in  these  evil  days,  he  had  planned  to  edit,  in  conjunction 
with  Rbtscher,  a  yearbook  for  dramatic  art  and  literature. 
But  this,  like  his  other  editorial  plans,  came  to  nothing. 
Whether  or  not  it  would  have  been  possible  under  any 
circumstances  for  Hebbel,  with  the  austere  tone  and  the  inflex- 
ible logic  of  his  art,  to  find  an  immediate  sphere  of  activity, 
may  well  be  doubted.  But  he  was  far  from  being  favored  in 
this  respect.  His  relations  with  the  one  institute  that  could 
have  aided  him  most,  the  Burgtheater,  were  anything  but 
fortunate.  And  whatever  chances  he  may  have  had  at  one 
time  to  form  more  profitable  connections  with  this  leading 
German  stage,  were  reduced  to  nothing  when  Heinrich  Laube 
came  into  the  management,  with  the  beginning  of  the  year 
1850.  This  was  the  same  "arrogant  Laube"  to  whom 
Hebbel  had  referred  with  such  contempt  during  his  darkest 
days  in  Munich.  At  that  time  Laube  was  one  of  the  leaders 
of  a  revolutionary  movement  in  literature,  and  his  works  had 


180         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

once  been  entirely  prohibited  by  the  Frankfurt  Parliament. 
Unlike  Heine,  however,  who  suffered  exile  to  preserve  his 
independence,  Laube  gradually  ripened  into  a  conservative. 
How  safe  he  was  felt  to  be  fifteen  years  later,  is  shown 
clearly  enough  in  his  appointment  to  the  management  of  the 
Burgtheater  under  a  reactionary  government. 

Hebbel  had  met  Laube  two  years  before  in  Leipzig,  and 
from  that  occasion  he  received  the  impression  that  Laube 
was  "true  and  honorable — what  more  can  one  ask?"  The 
new  regime,  however,  at  once  began  unfavorably  for  Hebbel. 
A  version  of  Julius  Ccesar  that  he  had  arranged  for  the  stage 
at  the  solicitation  of  Holbein,  and  that  had  been  accepted, 
was  now  returned  to  him  as  unsuitable.  Laube  had  a  Julius 
Ccesar  of  his  own  arrangement.  By  February  Hebbel  was 
complaining  to  Bamberg  that  his  dramas  had  disappeared 
from  the  stage  in  Vienna.  That  he  was  just  to  Laube,  or 
even  conciliatory  as  far  as  lay  in  his  power,  appears  from 
a  letter  to  Kiihne,  in  which  he  speaks  of  having  defended  the 
new  director  against  prejudice  and  hate.  Then  Judith  was 
given  and  Mary  Magdalene  was  being  prepared,  so  that  he 
grew  more  optimistic  for  awhile.  This,  however,  was  the 
only  optimistic  note  and  by  April  he  writes:  "My  good 
genius  did  not  come  to  Vienna  with  Mr.  Heinrich  Laube. 
Whether  it  was  my  evil  genius  or  not  will  soon  appear."  A 
year  later  we  find  another  frank  effort  on  his  part  to  make 
terms  with  Laube,  seemingly  in  vain.  To  use  the  same 
words  he  used  back  in  Hamburg  with  reference  to  Gutzkow, 
there  was  no  heart  in  their  relation.  And  so,  in  the  next 
ten  years,  Hebbel's  opinion,  soon  expressed,  that  Vienna 
was  a  house  of  mediocrity  presided  over  by  Heinrich  Laube, 
grew  to  be  his  settled  conviction. 

It  is  interesting  to  compare  Laube's  formulation  of  his 
own  ideals  and  attainments  with  Hebbel's  criticism.  In  his 
instructive  book,  The  Burgtheater,  Laube  outlines  his  rep- 
ertoire as  one  that  "every  educated  man  could  call  com- 
plete." It  was  to  contain  all  good  German  plays  from 
Lessing  on,  that  is,  the  German  classical  stage.  Then 
Shakespeare,  as  far  as  his  works  could  be  adapted  to  modern 
requirements,  and  Laube  had  his  very  definite  notions  on 


Some  Disappointments  181 

that  point.  Also  French  works  like  Phedrey  Spanish 
dramas  like  Donna  Diana  and  Life  is  a  Dream,  the  last  two 
having  been  won  for  the  repertoire  in  the  good  days  of 
Schreyvogel.  And  finally,  contemporary  plays,  both  Ger- 
man and  in  translation,  as  far  as  these  latter  might  not 
conflict  too  much  with  German  custom.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
the  French  salon  play  became  his  chief  support.  Though 
hesitating  to  declare  that  he  had  attained  his  ideal,  he 
thought  he  had  come  pretty  close  to  it.  He  claimed  to  have 
elevated  the  Burgtheater,  between  the  years  1850-1867,  to 
the  first  position  in  Europe,  not  excepting  the  Thedtre- 
Francais. 

Now  let  us  see  what  Hebbel  said  about  these  attain- 
ments. He  wrote  down  his  opinion  in  a  sort  of  review  of 
Vienna  theaters  (1862),  which,  however,  was  not  published. 
As  usual  he  prefaces  his  remarks  with  a  brief  historical 
sketch.  Since  Schreyvogel's  dismissal,  he  says,  the  course 
of  events  had  led  downward.  But  that  director's  example 
in  maintaining  a  good  ensemble  had  been  followed  with 
profit.  The  repertoire,  of  course,  had  been  kept  as  con- 
servative as  possible.  The  revolution  had  forced  Holbein 
to  change  this  policy.  Laube  then  came  in  with  the  reac- 
tion. Hebbel  outlines  his  activity  as  director.  Four  chief 
results  stand  out  in  this  outline.  Laube's  first  and  only 
principle  was  the  presentation  of  his  own  plays,  the  ensemble 
was  ruined  by  the  frequency  of  visiting  actors,  all  poetry 
was  suppressed,  the  plays  of  the  Birch-Pfeiffer  type  being 
advanced,  as  well  as  translations  from  the  French,  "like 
Jonah's  gourd,  springing  up  and  passing  away  over  night." 
Finally,  the  theater  was  made  dependent  on  daily  receipt 
because  of  the  overloading  of  the  expense  account  for  new 
actors  and  experiments. 

This  indictment,  of  course,  is  that  of  an  enemy,  and  it  is 
severe,  but  in  many  ways  it  is  correct.  Laube  was  a 
man  of  unbounded  energy  and  keen  understanding,  quick 
to  see  his  advantage  and  not  hesitating  to  avail  him- 
self of  it.  He  was  essentially  without  imagination.  This 
corresponded  with  his  appearance,  which  was  "embodied 
prose."     His  own  dramas  are  prosaic  through  and  through. 


182         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

He  was  inclined  to  judge  everything,  even  Shakespeare 
by  its  adaptability  to  the  stage  conventions  of  his  own 
time.  What  was  clear,  reasonable,  and  well  made,  won 
his  sympathy,  while  he  distrusted  what  was  profound 
and  poetic.  He  introduced  at  the  Burgtheater,  however, 
Faust  I,  The  Robbers,  Fiescot  Julius  C(£sar  and  other  works 
of  Shakespeare.  He  is  generally  given  credit  for  having 
discovered  a  large  number  of  young  actors  that  later  be- 
came famous,  and  Georg  Altman  represents  him  as  the  first 
modern  regisseur,  because  he  subordinated  every  element  to 
the  creation  of  the  given  play  as  a  distinct  work  of  art. 
In  carrying  out  his  idea,  he  emphasized  chiefly  the  spoken 
word,  using  a  minimum  of  decoration  and  requisites.  His 
favorite  notion  was  to  reduce  every  work  to  what  he  con- 
sidered its  shortest  form  of  expression.  With  this  guiding 
principle  he  cut  and  reduced  Shakespeare  pretty  much  to 
suit  himself,  whether  language,  scenes,  or  motives.  In  the 
first  five  years  he  kept  up  a  sort  of  Shakespeare  culT,  which 
then  gave  way  to  contemporary  drama.  About  1863  he 
made  another  feeble  effort  to  reinstate  Shakespeare.  His 
own  adaptation  of  Julius  C&sar  was  very  successful,  while 
his  other  adaptations  were  not  well  received. 

The  darkest  page  in  his  history  as  a  director,  accord- 
ing to  Freiherr  von  Berger,1  is  his  treatment  of  Hebbel.  He 
declared  that  Hebbel's  dramas  were  unsuited  to  the  stage, 
and  their  partial  success  when  given  he  often  attributed  to 
the  changes  he  suggested.  In  his  Burgtheater  he  asserts 
over  and  over  again,  with  every  appearance  of  sincerity, 
that  Hebbel's  works  lack  two  necessary  qualities :  reconcilia- 
tion as  tragedies,  and  stagecraft  as  plays.  Hebbel,  he 
thought,  was  a  "poetizing  thinker,  not  a  thinking  poet." 
Like  many  directors,  he  did  about  as  he  pleased,  and  with 
such  excellent  reasons  he  could  easily  justify  the  most 
arbitrary  actions.  If,  as  Hebbel  claimed,  he  was  moved  by 
jealousy,  he  had  the  fairest  mantle  under  which  to  cloak  his 
sin.  Laube  was  by  no  means  alone  in  his  judgment  of  these 
questions.     In  fact  he  had  the  majority  on  his  side.     How- 


Op.  cit.  Chapter  on  Laube. 


Some  Disappointments  183 

ever  he  may  really  have  felt  about  the  matter,  he  threw  down 
the  gauntlet  to  Hebbel's  chances  for  enduring  fame  as  a 
dramatist,  and  the  success  of  his  challenge  grows  more  and 
more  doubtful  with  the  passing  of  time.  Since  his  connec- 
tion with  the  Burgtheater  outlasted  Hebbel's  life  by  four 
years,  his  hostile  attitude  had  most  to  do  with  excluding  the 
poet  from  his  natural  sphere  of  activity.  As  late  as  1860 
Hebbel  wrote  bitterly:  "Germany  waits  for  Vienna,  and 
Vienna  waits  for  Laube." 

This  brief  sketch  will  suffice  to  show  us  the  general  back- 
ground of  Hebbel's  further  career  as  far  as  his  chances  in 
Vienna  were  concerned.  It  has,  however,  taken  us  far  be- 
yond the  year  when  the  new  management  began  (1850). 
That  year  presented  Hebbel  to  the  public  in  a  very  unfavor- 
able light.  Herod  and  Mariamne,  with  which  it  began,  had 
failed  on  the  stage,  and  was  generally  misunderstood  when 
published.  About  the  same  time  Hebbel  published  The 
Tragedy  in  Sicily,  The  Ruby,  Julia,  and  a  fragment  of  a 
work  entitled  The  Actress.  This  fragment  also  showed  him 
to  great  disadvantage.  It  may  be  taken  as  a  remnant  from 
the  period  of  social  drama,  which  had  ended  so  much  worse 
than  it  began.  This  new  work  was  based  on  the  idea  that  a 
woman  who  has  given  her  soul  to  an  unworthy  man  may  feel 
herself  as  deeply  degraded  as  one  who  has  given  her  body. 
Both  language  and  characterization  of  this  fragment  are 
stilted  and  tortuous  in  the  extreme. 

Contemporary  criticism  was  not  slow  to  hold  up  Hebbel's 
deficiencies.  The  year  1851  was  one  of  his  worst  in  this 
respect.  It  began  with  a  sharp  criticism  from  Hermann 
Hettner,  who  found  it  necessary,  as  he  said,  to  reject  the 
pretensions  Hebbel  had  made  to  founding  a  new  genre  in 
his  Tragedy  in  Sicily.  He  deplored  the  fact  that  this  work 
had  been  published  twice  by  its  author,  and  added  that,  with 
the  single  exception  of  Mary  Magdalene,  Hebbel  had  done 
nothing  to  justify  the  hopes  aroused  by  his  Judith.  A 
similar  position  was  taken  in  the  same  paper  {Blatter  fur 
liter arische  Unterhaltung)  by  A.  Henneberger,  in  December 
of  that  year.  Likewise  Gustav  Kuhne,  editor  of  the  Europa, 
in  Leipzig,   wrote   a   sharp   condemnation   of   the   ill-fated 


184         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

Tragedy  in  Sicily,  and  also 'included  Herod  and  Mariamne. 
(April  12,  1851).  Kiihne,  who  corresponded  off  and  on 
with  Hebbel,  had  already  written  several  articles  on  him. 
He  recognized  in  him  the  chief  poetic  talent  in  Germany, 
but  at  the  same  time  saw  in  his  productions  certain  weak- 
nesses and  dangers,  which,  in  his  opinion,  threatened  them 
seriously.  These  he  pointed  out  with  definiteness  and  inde- 
pendence. He  never  forgot,  however,  the  proper  bounds  of 
criticism,  which  marked  a  sharp  distinction  between  him  and 
Julian  Schmidt,  the  well  known  historian  of  German 
literature. 

Julian  Schmidt  began  with  Hebbel  almost  as  soon  as  he 
entered  upon  his  public  career  as  a  critic,  in  1847.  He  was 
connected  with  the  Grenzboten,  in  Leipzig,  at  first  with  J. 
Kuranda  as  editor,  and  then  with  Gustav  Freytag.  His 
guiding  principle  in  criticism  was  what  he  termed  "common 
sense,"  and  he  consciously  opposed  all  metaphysics  in  criti- 
cism. His  strength  lay  in  his  analysis  of  the  emotions  in 
literary  characters  and  situations.2  He  wrote  wittily  and 
clearly,  but  he  was  often  contradictory  in  the  extreme.  This 
was  evident  in  his  first  review  of  Hebbel,  in  which  he  criticised 
the  first  three  tragedies  and  the  comedy.  After  admitting 
Hebbel  to  be  the  greatest  dramatic  poet  in  Germany  since 
Schiller  and  Kleist,  he  proceeded  in  the  special  remarks  to 
leave  very  little  good  in  him.  The  same  thing  was  done  in  a 
second  article  on  the  Ruby  and  The  Tragedy  in  Sicily 
(1850).  First,  Hebbel  was  individual,  independent,  eccen- 
tric; gifted  with  unexcelled  power  of  portraying  passion, 
and  possessed  of  a  high  conception  of  his  art.  His  char- 
acters, however,  were  mechanical,  their  passions  and  actions 
forced,  they  were  imbued  with  a  cold,  repellent  stoicism,  and 
they  often  spoke  like  madmen.  He  had  already  predicted 
that  Hebbel  would  end  in  an  insane  asylum.  This  prediction 
was  nearly  fulfilled  when  Hebbel  read  the  criticism,  so  en- 
raged did  he  become.  He  answered  Schmidt  in  an  article 
as  drastic  as  its  title :  Disposing  of  an  Esthetic  Mountebank. 
The  tone,  however,  is  earnest  and  full  of  dignity.     Schmidt 


2  See  Allgemeine  d.  Biographic 


Some  Disappointments  185 

followed  this  with  a  sharp  rejoinder.  It  must  be  said  that 
his  reviews,  in  attempting  to  prove  that  Hebbel  delighted  in 
repulsive  and  horrible  ideas,  greatly  overemphasize  the  com- 
parative importance  of  certain  disagreeable  features  in  the 
poet's  work,  and  thus  give  a  very  unfavorable,  and  equally 
untrue,  impression  of  them. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Agnes  Bemauer 

HEBBEL  did  not  permit  these  various  conflicts  to  em- 
bitter his  life.  The  publishers,  he  said,  were  eager  for 
his  wares.  In  the  summer  of  1850  he  had  at  last,  by  dint 
of  hard  work  and  good  management,  discharged  his  only 
remaining  debt,  the  money  borrowed  of  Gurlitt  in  Italy.  He 
was  by  no  means  without  very  respectable  support  among 
men  whose  opinions  counted  for  something,  such  as  Gervinus 
and  Vischer,  not  to  mention  Rotscher  and  Bamberg.  Dingel- 
stedt,  recently  made  director  of  the  Court  Theater  in 
Munich,  entered  into  communication  with  him,  which  re- 
sulted in  Judith  being  given  in  that  city,  and  also  led  to  more 
important  things  later.  Hebbel  was  happy  at  home  with 
his  wife  and  little  girl ;  and  by  now  he  also  found  himself  the 
center  of  a  group  of  friends  on  whom  he  could  rely  with 
some  assurance.  The  most  important  of  them  was  Emil 
Kuh,  who  later  became  the  poet's  Boswell.  It  was  in  1849 
that  Kuh,  then  nineteen  years  of  age,  became  acquainted 
with  Hebbel,  whose  works  he  received  enthusiastically.  He 
had  literary  ambitions,  which  were  destined  to  find  partial 
gratification,  at  least,  in  journalistic  and  critical  essays. 
In  him  Hebbel  found  an  eager  recipient  of  his  ideas,  a  sharer 
of  that  wealth  which  increases  through  being  shared.  Emil 
Kuh  was  his  disciple  in  the  real  sense  of  the  word,  and,  as 
he  tells  us,  scarcely  a  day  passed  that  he  did  not  spend  a 
part  of  his  time  in  his  master's  company.  Still  younger 
than  Kuh,  and,  like  him,  of  Jewish  ancestry,  was  Julius 
Glaser,  destined  as  a  follower  of  the  law  for  a  brilliant  career. 
Possessed  from  the  first  of  remarkable  diligence  and  indepen- 
dence, he  enjoyed  the  poet's  influence  with  more  reserve.  It 
will  be  seen  that  Hebbel  attracted  and  was  attracted  by 
young  men.  He  wished  to  mould  them  according  to  his 
deeper  insight,  and  cherished  the  hope  of  founding  a  new 
school  of  criticism  with  their  assistance.     Two  others  be- 

186 


Agnes  Bemauer  187 

longing  to  this  circle,  ironically  referred  to  as  the  "Court 
of  Frederic  the  Great,"1  were  Karl  Werner,  later  college 
professor,  and  the  young  composer,  Debrois  van  Bruyck,  a 
follower  of  Schumann.  In  addition,  Hebbel  numbered 
among  his  particular  friends  the  painter,  Karl  Rahl;  the 
priest  and  poet,  Wilhelm  Gartner;  and  Adolph  Pichler,  who 
after  studying  in  Vienna  became  professor  of  medicine  in 
Innsbruck. 

In  the  summer  of' 1851  Hebbel  went  to  Berlin  with  the 
purpose  of  arranging  for  his  wife  to  play  certain  guest 
roles  in  the  Court  Theater.  Kiistner,  with  whom  he  had  so 
much  unsatisfactory  correspondence  about  his  plays,  and 
who  had  just  refused  Michael  Angelo  with  the  coldest 
formality,  was  now  replaced  by  Baron  von  Hiilsen,  a  young 
man  who,  on  first  sight,  impressed  the  poet  favorably. 
Another  object,  or  perhaps  the  real  object,  of  this  visit, 
was  to  look  over  the  situation  with  a  view  to  finding  in  Berlin 
what  was  lacking  in  Vienna — a  suitable  field  of  activity  on 
the  stage  for  his  works  and  his  wife's  talent.  As  early  as 
1846  the  poet  began  to  complain  that  Christine's  talent 
was  not  sufficiently  valued  at  the  Burgtheater.  Under 
Laube  this  neglect  increased  to  what  he  termed  an  attempt 
at  moral  murder.  By  this  'he  meant  that  her  place  as  a 
great  tragedienne  was  given  to  others,  while  she  was  forced 
to  play  comic  roles.  We  know  that  Hebbel  considered  his 
wife  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  actresses  of  her  day.  She 
was  fitted  for  heroic  parts,  her  manner  was  rhetorical  and 
somewhat  monotonous.  According  to  Gutzkow,  this,  with 
her  failure  to  participate  in  the  action  when  not  speaking, 
was  her  chief  fault.  She  early  became  stout,  and  was  given 
the  roles  of  nurses  and  confidantes.  She  played  Mariamne 
and  Kriemhild  exceptionally  well,  but  her  best  parts  were 
probably  Clara  and  Judith  (Buhne  und  Welt,  IX  Jahrgang, 
I  Halbjahr,  380  f.,  an  article  by  A.  von  Weilen).  Laube 
considered  it  best  for  his  actors  to  play  in  many  different 
parts,  and  possibly  believed  that  in  discovering  new  fields 
for  Christine  he  was  acting  to  her  advantage. 


1  Werner,  p.  337. 


188         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

While  Hebbel  succeeded  in  arranging  the  parts  for 
Christine,  including  a  performance  of  Judith,  his  general 
impressions  of  the  northern  capital  were  unfavorable. 
Berlin  seemed  to  him  tgo  cold  and  intellectual,  and  there 
he  became  conscious  of  the  love  he  bore  Austria.  While  in 
Berlin  he  visited  Rotscher,  who  had  been  one  of  his  warmest 
advocates.  But  the  climax  of  his  visit  came  when  he  made 
the  personal  acquaintance  of  Tieck.  The  aged  poet, 
twisted  and  tortured  by  gout,  and  just  recovered  from  a 
serious  illness,  still  faced  life  with  an  imperturbable  courage. 
He  received  his  young  contemporary  and  constant  admirer 
with  great  cordiality.  "He  stretched  out  to  me,"  says 
Hebbel,  "his  withered,  trembling  hand,  and  said :  It  is  kind 
of  you  to  come  to  see  me.  When  I  touched  it,  I  had  the 
feeling  that  two  centuries  were  greeting  each  other."  Heb- 
bel had  always  thought  highly  of  Tieck's  poetic  talent,  and 
while  conscious  of  fundamental  differences  in  matters  of 
literary  conviction,  he  was  never  tempted  to  join  with  those 
who  helped  to  embitter  the  aged  author's  closing  days.  On 
the  contrary,  he  put  in  a  generous  word  for  his  critical 
essays,  or  his  imaginative  creations  of  a  certain  period. 
Tieck,  who  valued  this  attitude,  paid  Hebbel  a  high  tribute 
in  the  following  words  to  Emil  Kuh :  "I  am  very  fond  of  him, 
and  am  always  glad  when  he  comes.  I  knew  Goethe,  and 
since  then  I  have  not  met  many  men  as  great  as  Hebbel. 
Of  his  writings,  to  be  sure,  the  most  are  strange  to  me  .  .  . 
though  in  none  of  them  do  I  fail  to  recognize  the  poet's 
power."2  Upon  Tieck's  death,  three  years  later,  Hebbel 
wrote  a  discriminating  tribute  to  him,  calling  to  mind  espe- 
cially the  great  services  rendered  by  him  to  Shakespeare 
and  Kleist. 

Between  the  end  of  September  and  December  17  of  this 
year  (1851),  Hebbel  wrote  his  next  great  work,  Agnes 
Bernauer.  It  is  in  prose.  Its  theme  he  characterizes  in  the 
following  words:  "It  simply  represents  the  relation  of  the 
'  individual  to  society,  and  accordingly  illustrates  in  two 
characters,  one  of  the  highest,  the  other  of  the  lowest  class, 


*  Kuh,  Vol.  II,  320. 


\  I 

Agnes  Bemauer  189 

the  fact  that  the  individual,  however  splendid  and  great, 
however  noble  and  fair,  must  under  all  circumstances  yield 
to  society.  For  in  society  and  its  necessary  formal  expres- 
sion, the  state,  humanity  lives  as  a  whole,  while  in  the  indi- 
vidual only  one  single  phase  of  it  is  unfolded.  This  is  an 
earnest  and  bitter  teaching,  for  which  I  expect  no  thanks 
from  the  empty  democracy  of  our  times.  But  it  runs  through 
all  history,  and  whoever  cares  to  study  my  former  dramas  in 
their  totality  .  .  .  will  find  it  expressed  in  them  too,  clearly 
enough,  as  far  as  the  circumstances  permitted." 

But  in  none  of  these  works  does  the  poet  present  this 
tragic  aspect  of  human  life  in  so  typical  a  manner  as  in 
Agnes  Bemauer.  He  represents  a  heroine,  who  by  virtue  of 
her  very  physical  perfection  is  a  menace  to  the  state,  and 
who  therefore  must  perish.  She  seems  to  him  like  a  modern 
Antigone,  and  in  this  comparison  he  recalls  that  play  of 
antiquity  which  he  took  to  be  a  complete  example  of  his 
tragic  theory,  in  one  of  its  fundamental  conditions.  Hebbel 
had  already  thought  of  perfect  beauty  and  its  results  as  a 
fitting  tragic  theme.  In  Genoveva  that  conception  is  ex- 
pressed with  some  emphasis.  But  in  the  Bavarian  tradi- 
tions about  Agnes  Bernauer,  the  so-called  Angel  of  Augs- 
burg, he  found  the  exact  material  he  needed  for  his 
purpose. 

Hebbel  follows  the  traditional  material  closely,  with  one 
important  exception  which  will  be  pointed  out  in  the  course 
of  our  discussion.  The  chief  persons  in  the  drama  besides 
Agnes  are  Duke  Ernst  and  his  son,  Albrecht.  Not  appear- 
ing in  the  play,  but  hovering  in  the  background  and  compli- 
cating the  political  situation,  are  the  rulers  of  the  other 
ducal  houses :  Ludwig  of  Ingolstadt  and  Heinrich  of  Lands- 
hut.  These,  with  Duke  Ernst  of  Munich,  rule  respectively 
over  the  three  parts  of  Bavaria.  Ernst  has  spent  the  best 
years  of  his  life  in  endeavoring  to  build  up  his  duchy,  and 
in  some  measure,  at  least,  repair  the  damage  done  by  his 
predecessors.  Elizabeth  of  Wiirttemberg,  who  is  engaged 
to  marry  Albrecht,  having  run  off  with  another,  he  is  pre- 
paring to  demand  a  large  indemnity  from  her  father,  and 
at  the  same  time  find  a  more  advantageous  match  for  his 


190         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedreich  Hebbel 

son  in  Anna  of  Brunswick.  While  he  is  making  these  ex- 
cellent arrangements,  Albrecht,  on  a  visit  to  Augsburg,  sees 
Agnes  Bernauer,  a  barber's  daughter,  and  is  so  captivated 
by  her  that  he  sues  for  her  hand.  His  love  is  returned  and 
he  is  secretly  married  to  her.  He  then  takes  her  to  live  with 
him  at  his  castle,  Vohburg.  Duke  Ernst  refuses  to  credit 
this  news  at  first,  and  when  finally  convinced  of  its  truth  he 
disinherits  Albrecht,  to  declare  the  sickly  boy  of  his  brother, 
William,  as  his  successor.  He  is  forced  to  do  this,  because 
he  believes  that,  even  if  he  should  recognize  the  marriage,  a 
child  of  Albrecht  and  Agnes  would  never  be  tolerated  as 
rightful  ruler  by  the  jealous  lines  of  Ingolstadt  and  Lands- 
hut  who  would  seize  this  pretext  for  a  civil  war.  But  his 
extreme  measure  is  of  no  avail,  for  the  young  boy  soon  dies. 
Ernst  now  faces  the  question  as  to  succession  again.  Should 
lie  select  either  of  the  rival  lines  to  succeed  him,  the  other 
would  begin  a  struggle.  If  he  should  die  without  any  heir 
the  same  thing  would  result.  He  therefore  resolves  that 
Agnes  Bernauer  must  be  sacrificed  to  save  the  country  from 
civil  war.  Taking  advantage  of  Albrecht's  absence  from 
Vohburg,  he  sends  a  troop  of  men  under  the  command  of 
his  chancellor  to  seize  Agnes  and  execute  upon  her  the 
sentence  of  death.  She  is  offered  life,  however,  if  she  will 
consent  to  be  separated  from  Albrecht.  She  refuses  and 
is  killed. 

According  to  the  tradition  Albrecht  at  first  flares  up  in 
rage  and  goes  over  to  his  father's  rivals  but  he  is  soon 
reconciled.  Hebbel  brings  about  the  reconciliation  in  a 
different  way.  Albrecht  raises  an  army  and  fights  against 
his  father,  whom  he  takes  prisoner.  Duke  Ernst  answers 
his  reproaches  by  giving  over  the  scepter  into  his  hand  and 
signifying  his  willingness  to  be  judged  by  his  son  and  suc- 
cessor. Albrecht  realizes  for  the  first  time  the  responsibilities 
of  a  ruler  and  begins  to  comprehend  the  reasons  for  his 
father's  conduct.  His  wife,  accorded  in  her  death  the 
recognition  she  was  refused  in  her  life,  is  buried  with  all  the 
ceremony  of  state.  The  original  feature  in  Hebbel's  in- 
terpretation of  the  material  is,  therefore,  his  characteriza- 
tion of  Ernst  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  the  portrayal  of 


Agnes  Bernauer  191 

Agnes's  death  as  a  necessary  sacrifice.  As  was  natural 
popular  tradition  had  laid  the  chief  stress  upon  the  un- 
fortunate fate  of  Agnes,  who  seemed  the  victim  of  cruel 
tyranny.  Hebbel,  on  the  other  hand,  makes  Ernst  the  hero 
of  the  drama  and  the  model  of  a  self-sacrificing  ruler.  He 
takes  especial  care  to  show  the  Duke's  will  in  its  representa- 
tive capacity.  Behind  him  stand  the  empire  with  its  ban, 
the  church  with  its  excommunication,  the  people  with  their 
dependence  on  him  for  the  preservation  of  their  lives  and 
property.  And  without  faltering  he  fulfills  the  tragic 
duty  imposed  on  him  by  his  position,  though  his  assumption 
of  a  harsh  exterior  cannot  for  a  moment  blind  us  to  the 
bitter  woe  he  is  suffering.  His  dogged  and  stoical  envisag- 
ing of  his  tragic  fate  is  among  the  strongest  points  of  the 
drama.  Equally  fine  is  the  contrast  between  him  and 
Albrecht — the  impetuous  youth,  so  sure  of  his  feelings,  so 
care-free  in  his  defiance  of  custom,  and  then  suddenly 
brought  close  up  to  the  terrible  face  of  reality.  His  illu- 
sions in  respect  to  the  authority  of  individual  emotion  and 
will  vanish  in  the  stern  presence  of  social  exigencies,  and  he-^r 
sees  himself,  the  future  ruler,  as  helpless  as  the  lowest  \ 
servant.  He  learns  his  lesson,  but  his  personal  happiness  .  \ 
is  crushed  forever. 

The  clearness  with  which  Hibbel  conceived  the  central 
idea  of  his  drama  is  equaled  at  every  point  by  the  vigor  and 
human  interest  of  the  characters  that  embody  that  idea. 
Nowhere  do  the  persons  live  more  individually  in  our  minds, 
do  the  scenes  follow  in  a  more  impressive  order,  does  the 
fate  of  an  individual  enlist  our  sympathies  more  than  in 
Agnes  Bernauer.  The  action  is  tense  and  concentrated  but 
every  character  that  enters  is  vividly  portrayed:  the  plain, 
blunt  Caspar  Bernauer,  the  youthful  Theobald,  who 
breathes  only  in  his  love  for  Agnes ;  the  awkward  representa- 
tives of  the  artisan  guilds  in  Augsburg,  so  insistent  upon 
their  rights ;  the  officious  mayor ;  the  foolish  old  Knippel- 
dollinger,  who  hopes  his  wealth  can  purchase  Agnes's  hand; 
Barbara,  her  girl  friend,  tormented  by  jealousy;  on  up 
through  the  nobler  circles,  until  we  reach  the  impetuous  and 
generous    Albrecht     and    his     indomitable,     self-sacrificing 


192         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

father.  The  dangers  of  attempting  to  portray  perfection 
in  his  heroine  the  poet  has  avoided  with  entire  success.  She 
is  as  human  as  she  is  beautiful.  She  is  modest  without 
affectation  and  her  thoughts  and  feelings  correspond  to  the 
nobility  of  her  appearance.  The  qualities  of  her  mind  are 
evident  in  her  words  and  actions,  her  beauty  in  its  impres- 
sion upon  those  around  her.  It  is  a  fatal  gift,  which 
renders  her  against  her  will  the  center  of  continual  strife. 
It  incites  the  young,  it  makes  the  old  foolish,  it  arouses  envy 
and  jealousy  among  her  friends,  it  surrounds  her  every  step 
in  public  with  difficulties,  and  finally  threatens  to  disrupt 
the  social  order.  Her  bearing  under  these  conditions  is 
what  we  would  like.  She  receives  Albrecht  into  her  affec- 
tions without  excluding  her  father  from  them,  and  while 
not  sacrificing  the  simplicity  of  her  class  she  gradually  fits 
into  her  position  as  Albrecht's  wife.  The  heroic  dignity, 
touched  by  the  inevitable  human  shudder,  with  which  she 
goes  to  meet  her  end  reminds  us  indeed  of  the  moving  lament 
of  Antigone  taking  leave  of  her  native  city. 

Hebbel  thought  his  Agnes  Bernauer  would  make  him 
popular  at  last.  Among  all  his  dramas  up  to  that  time  he 
regarded  it  as  the  clearest  in  idea  and  the  most  concrete 
in  all  its  parts.  A  good  many  persons  agreed  with  him,  as 
for  example  Robert  Prutz,  who  considered  this  work  a  turn- 
ing point  in  the  poet's  career.  In  general,  however,  like  the 
rest  of  his  works  it  was  doomed  to  be  an  "apple  of  discord." 
As  fortune  would  have  it  Agnes  Bernauer,  founded  on 
Bavarian  tradition,  was  given  for  the  first  time  in  Munich, 
and  that  under  circumstances  of  peculiar  interest.  Dingel- 
stedt,  since  1850  director  of  the  Court  Theater  there,  had 
been  in  correspondence  with  Hebbel  regarding  the  new 
drama.  He  had  already  given  Judith  with  success,  and 
now  he  resolved  to  give  the  new  work  under  the  personal 
supervision  of  its  author.  Hebbel  arrived  in  Munich  on 
February  21,  1852.  For  the  first  time  he  re-entered  the 
city  where  years  before  in  the  midst  of  bitter  poverty  he  had 
completed  the  foundations  of  his  spiritual  life.  His  letters 
tell  with  what  emotions  he  visited  familiar  scenes.  But 
under  what  different  circumstances !     The  poor  student  had 


Agnes  Bernauer  193 

looked  on  the  outside  of  the  theaters  where  now-his  works 
formed  an  absorbing  topic.  In  aristocratic  circles  he  was 
an  honored  guest  and  he  was  admitted  to  audiences  with  two 
kings  and  a  queen,  with  whom  he  discussed  poetry  and  the 
drama.  He  even  took  tea  with  them !  To  his  wife  he 
wrote:  Have  Kuh  put  all  this  in  the  papers  for  the  sake  of 
the  rabble!  These  favors  from  above  were  quickly  reflected 
from  below,  and  upon  presentation  of  Judith  the  poet  was 
summoned  on  the  stage  by  a  storm  of  applause. 

After  careful  preparation  by  Dingelstedt  and  himself, 
after  much  enthusiastic  labor,  Agnes  Bernauer  was  given  on 
March  25,  1852.  Exactly  what  happened  soon  became  a 
matter  of  violent  dispute  in  the  literary  journals,  the  poet's 
friends  announcing  a  triumph,  his  enemies  heralding  a 
failure.  Hebbel's  own  account  in  a  letter  to  Christine  spoke 
of  a  decisive  victory,  especially  noting  the  fact  that  he  was 
called  on  the  stage  three  times — and  this  in  spite  of  the 
inferior  acting  in  all  except  two  roles,  neither  of  which  was 
a  leading  one.  He  admitted,  however,  that  the  discussion 
of  the  problem  between  father  and  son  at  the  end  had  cooled 
the  audience  decidedly,  and  he  determined  to  change  that  a 
little  in  the  direction  of  dramatic  effectiveness.  This  same 
opinion  was  expressed  by  the  influential  Augsburg  General 
News  (Allgemeine  Zeitung),  which  in  other  respects  praised 
the  author  with  unaccustomed  warmth.  Decidedly  the  most 
interesting  account  of  the  whole  performance  is  given  by 
Dingelstedt  in  his  sketch  of  Hebbel.3  According  to  him  the 
first  two  acts  met  with  enthusiastic  reception,  the  third  act 
— the  open  quarrel  between  father  and  son,  the  conflict 
between  peasants  and  knights — created  a  sensation,  due  to 
its  apparent  bearing  on  contemporary  conditions  in 
Bavaria,  while  the  last  two  acts,  following  this  excitement, 
produced  almost  no  effect  whatever.  Thus  what  was 
farthest  from  Hebbel's  mind,  an  entirely  accidental  feature 
of  his  work,  and  a  consideration  not  connected  with  it  as  a 
piece  of  dramatic  art,  had  most  to  do  with  its  first  reception. 
Hebbel  had  considered  a  transfer  from  Vienna  to  Munich. 


3  In  his  Literarisches  Bilderbuch. 


194         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

But  even  before  the  Agnes  Bernauer  performance  he  seems 
to  have  given  up  this  idea  because  of  the  factions  he  had  im- 
mediately discovered  in  that  city.  The  "Old  Bavarians" 
were  jealous  of  the  number  of  North-German  celebrities 
that  surrounded  the  court.  To  Hebbel  it  seemed  that 
Dingelstedt's  own  position  was  none  too  secure,  a  view  later 
justified  by  the  event.  Besides,  Vienna  paid  much  better 
for  Christine's  acting.  The  doubts  he  had,  in  spite  of  in- 
dications from  all  sides  that  he  would  be  welcome  in  Munich, 
were  fully  confirmed  when  he  heard  that  Agnes  Bernauer 
would  not  be  repeated.  It  was  said  that  one  of  the  principal 
actors  was  sick.  When  Hebbel  heard  this,  says  Dingelstedt, 
"he  smiled  and  began  to  pack  his  trunk." 

It  now  remains  to  connect  Agnes  Bernauer  briefly  with 
the  effect  produced  on  Hebbel  by  the  revolution  of  1848. 
This  may  be  done  largely  in  his  own  words.  In  a  letter  to 
Gervinus  he  declared  that  it  was  a  direct  result  of  the  revo- 
lution. And  in  a  second  letter,  replying  to  certain  objec- 
tions, he  says :  "To  be  sure,  the  insane  desire  to  emancipate 
the  individual,  which  is  manifested  in  our  time  by  con- 
servatives and  democrats  alike,  may~have  lecTme  to  emphasize 
the  law  too  sharply  and  I  hope  to  find  some  subdued  tones 
yet."  On  all  hands  he  had  to  defend  the  sacrifice  of  Agnes 
to  the  state.  Writing  to  Pichler  he  speaks  of  an  aristo- 
cratic lady  who  was  content  with  everything  in  the  drama 
except  that,  or  rather  Albrecht's  reconciliation  to  it. 
"This,"  says  the  poet,  "is  repeated  on  all  sides,  by  all  parties 
and  factions,  and  furnishes  such  convincing  proof  to  what 
extent  the  individual  of  our  time  has  lost  sight  of  the  general 
forces,  of  which  Duke  Ernst  is  beyond  all  doubt  a  thoroughly 
legitimate  representative.  I  consider  this,  for  higher  than 
esthetic  reasons,  to  be  a  sad  indication,  fp?  from  it  follows 
that  we  can  produce  neither  consistent  .yr;  nts  nor  con- 
sistent republicans."  The  same  position  is  taken  even  more 
emphatically  in  a  letter  to  Uechtritz  (1854),  where  the 
poet  declares  that  he  is  entirely  on  the  side  of  Duke  Ernst, 
who  alone  had  kindled  his  imagination  for  the  work.  From 
all  these  statements,  and  from  what  we  know  of  HebbePs 
views  in  similar  instances,  it  is  plain  that  Agnes  Bernauer 


Agnes  Bemauer  195 

is  an  extreme  expression — that  it  is  extreme  he  himself 
"admits — of  his  settled  conviction  as  to  the  duty  and  the  fate 
of  the  individual  in  conflict  with  general  forces.  All  around 
him  he  saw  people  clamoring  for  freedom  from  the  past,  for 
a  new  order  of  society  in  which  "individuality"  should  find 
complete  expression.  While  his  attitude  in  1848  shows 
clearly  enough  that  he  did  not  believe  in  social  ossification, 
he  saw  no  hope  in  the  future  apart  from  the  full  recognition 
by  the  individual  of  his  proper  place  in  a  larger  organiza- 
tion. His  eyes  were  not  for  a  moment  blinded  by  the 
"individuality"  heralded  so  loudly  on  all  sides.  While  the 
storm  was  in  full  sway,  Hebbel  was  repeating  in  a  letter  of 
reconciliation  to  Amalia  Schoppe  the  memorable  words 
which  come  nearest  expressing  his  final  conclusion  on  the 
question  of  individuality.  "When  man  comprehends  in  its 
necessar3r  aspects  his  individual  relation  to  the  Universe,  he 
has  completed  his  education,  and  has,  in  the  proper  sense  of 
the  word,  ceased  to  be  an  individual.  For  the  comprehen- 
sion of  this  necessity,  the  ability  to  attain  it  and  the  power 
to  hold  it — that  is  just  what  is  universal  in  the  individual, 
extinguishing  all  unjustifiable  egotism  and  freeing  the  spirit 
from  death  by  essentially  anticipating  it." 

From  a  man  holding  this  stern  view  of  life  it  is  evident 
in  what  spirit  we  have  to  receive  such  a  drama  as  Agnes 
Bemauer.  It  is  his  protest  against  the  indiscriminate  riot 
of  the  spirit  everywhere  being  proclaimed  as  freedom,  a  dis- 
cussion of  the  basic  principles  underlying  the  whole  relation 
of  individual  and  society.  The  position  he  took  was  in  line 
with  the  trend  of  thought  in  Germany  throughout  the  first 
part  of  the  nineteenth  century.  He  did  not  conceive  of  the 
state_as  having  originated  in  a  social  contract,  but  in  j^. 
gradual  and  organic  concentration  of  powers  possessed  by 
its  individuals.  The  eighteenth  century  had  come  to  look 
on  the  state  as  a  mere  collection  of  individuals  and  reduced 
it  in  theory  to  a  negative  function.  The  individual  was  to 
be  absolute  and  supreme.  Gradually,  even  for  the  men  who 
had  held  this  view,  the  Romanticists,  Fichte,  Humboldt,  and 
others,  the  state  assumed  a  more  organic  function,  that  of 
making  it  possible  for  the  individual  to  develop.     Then  it 


196         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

took  on  a  metaphysical  significance  as  representing  the  Idea 
in  human  society,  and  became  an  end  in  itself  above  all 
individuals.  This  view  was  most  thoroughly  embodied  in 
the  philosophy  of  Hegel,  whose  system  may  be  regarded  as  a 
synthesis  of  the  most  vital  thought  concerning  the  state 
during  his  time.  This  was  what  Treitschke  described  as  a 
reawakening  of  antique  morality.  That  Hebbel  was  in 
sympathy  with  this  general  view  needs  no  repetition.  Yet 
side  by  side  with  that  he  never  wearies  of  stressing  the  im- 
portance of  the  individual.  Through  the  individual  alone 
all  great  advances  are  made,  in  him  alone  nature  draws  the 
interest  on  her  invested  capital.  The  only  solution  of  this 
apparent  contradiction  seems  to  be  contained  in  the  words 
written  to  Amalia  Schoppe,  as  above  quoted.  And  they  say 
the  same  thing  as  the  verse  that  ran :  "The  way  to  thee  leads 
through  the  Universe." 

The  autumn  of  that  year  (1852)  brought  Hebbel  the 
distinction  of  a  long  article  on  himself  and  his  works  in  the 
Revue  de  deux  Mondes  by  Saint  Rene  Taillandier.  The 
reviewer  had  received  for  his  purpose  a  detailed  account 
directly  from  the  poet.  It  is  interesting  to  see  that  Tail- 
landier connected  Mary  Magdalene  with  the  plays  of  Dumas. 
But  of  this  drama  he  had  little  conception  and  was  evidently 
afraid  of  it  because  of  its  theme.  Agnes  Bernauer  fared 
best  at  his  hands,  with  its  conflict,  as  he  put  it,  between  love 
and  duty,  and  he  particularly  valued  the  character  of  Ernst 
and  the  tragic  fate  of  Agnes.  Hebbel,  he  declared,  lacked 
neither  force,  nor  wealth,  nor  boldness,  but  serenity.  What 
he  needed  was  more  experience  of  life  and  less  concern  with 
systematic  theory.  Taillandier  was  absolutely  opposed  to 
the  metaphysical  type  of  criticism  rife  in  Germany  and  de- 
plored all  the  prefaces  to  HebbePs  dramas.  He  expressed 
the  hope  that  Vienna  would  cause  Hebbel  to  strive  for 
greater  clearness,  and  closed  with  the  plea  that  he  give  up 
trying  to  be  the  "dramatist  of  a  century"  and  the  "mysta- 
gogue  of  humanity."  "Let  him  be  the  dramatist  of  Ger- 
many and  he  will  give  Europe  a  poet!"  All  this  must  have 
sounded  familiar  enough  to  Hebbel. 

During  the  winter  (1852-53)  Hebbel  was,  contrary  to 


Agnes  Bernauer  197 

his  habit,  not  in  a  productive  mood.  He  completed  the 
task  of  editing  the  works  of  Feuchtersleben,  which  he  had 
undertaken  at  the  solicitation  of  the  widow.  This  had  been 
begun  several  years  before,  and  as  Hebbel  carried  it  out  with 
his  usual  exactness  it  robbed  him  of  much  valuable  time. 
The  sketch  of  Feuchtersleben  accompanying  the  edition  is  a 
good  example  of  Hebbel's  method  of  criticism,  and  the  ease 
and  authority  with  which  he  analyses  poetic  effort  are 
remarkable.  We  cannot,  however,  dwell  on  that  here. 
In  commenting  upon  Feuchtersleben' s  aversion  to  contempo- 
rary German  literature,  Hebbel  gives  a  concise  summary 
of  that  movement  and  its  results.  While  in  view  of  his  own 
life's  work  he  could  not  share  the  idea  of  Vischer  and  Ger- 
vinus,  that  contemporary  conditions  made  the  existence  of 
representative  poetry  impossible,  Hebbel  never  concealed 
from  himself  the  special  difficulties  placed  by  his  times  in  the 
way  of  harmonious  development.  He  realized  that  it  was  a 
transition  period,  the  birth  of  a  new  humanity.  The  revolu- 
tionary violence  with  which  this  change  occurred  interfered 
with  the  esthetic  valuation  of  the  drama.  His  Agnes 
Bernauer  had  given  him  a  particular  instance  of  this  state 
of  affairs.  In  spite  of  adverse  conditions,  however,  Hebbel 
discovered  a  respectable  number  of  works  sufficiently  repre- 
sentative of  the  period  to  promise  lasting  fame  to  their 
authors.  It  was  in  this  connection  that  he  spoke  in  favorable 
terms  of  Gutzkow's  novel,  Bitter  vom  Geist.  From  this  re- 
sulted another  effort  on  the  part  of  the  two  men  to  make 
friends  with  each  other,  beginning  in  Leipzig  in  the  summer 
of  1853. 

In  the  following  January  the  Burgtheater  produced,  for 
the  first  time  in  three  years,  a  new  play  of  Hebbel.  This 
was  not  Agnes  Bernauer,  which  had  been  changed  consider- 
ably at  Laube's  instance  and  yet  finally  refused,  but 
Genoveva.  Hebbel  had  sent  this  work  to  Laube  several 
years  earlier  and  at  last  its  performance  was  arranged  for. 
From  title  down  the  drama  had  to  be  changed  almost  beyond 
recognition  in  order  to  satisfy  the  censors.  Genoveva  be- 
came Magelone,  Golo  became  Bruno,  etc.  After  a  half 
dozen    performances    this    work   vanished   from   the   Burg. 


198         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

Judith  was  the  only  play  of  Hebbel  that  continued  to  be  seen 
in  Vienna — about  once  a  year. 

In  the  summer  of  1854,  Hebbel  went  to  Marienbad  for 
the  sake  of  his  wife's  health.  It  was  their  habit  to  spend 
a  part  of  the  summer  each  year  out  of  the  city,  and  Hebbel 
generally  indulged  at  least  once  a  year  his  fondness  for 
traveling.  In  addition  to  meeting  Metternich  in  Marienbad 
he  became  well  acquainted  with  Friedrich  von  Uechtritz,  with 
whom  he  later  exchanged  important  letters.  On  November 
18  of  that  year  Elise  Lensing  died  in  Hamburg.  HebbePs 
note  of  this  fact  in  his  Diary,  on  the  last  day  of  the  year, 
reveals  the  depth  of  emotion  it  awakened  in  him. 

In  the  same  place  he  recorded  the  completion  of  a  new 
drama,  Gyges  and  His  Ring. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Gyges,  a  volume  of  stories,  Mother  and  Child 

GYGES  and  His  Ring  is  by  many  considered  to  be  Heb- 
bel's  finest  work.  In  some  respects  this  is  no  doubt 
true.  Certainly  from  the  standpoint  of  language  it  is 
unsurpassed.  Hebbel's  sense  of  beauty,  always  strong  but 
not  always  harmonized  with  his  striving  for  energetic  char- 
acterization, has  here  attained  full  development.  There  are 
difficulties,  however,  in  the  motivation  in  this  drama,  diffi- 
culties innate  in  the  material,  and  while  the  poet  has  perhaps 
done  what  was  possible  with  them  his  solution  cannot  satisfy 
all  readers  of  his  work.  The  subject  is  taken  from  Herod- 
otus, who  relates  that  Candaules,  King  of  Lydia,  permitted 
his  friend  Gyges  to  see  the  unequaled  beauty  of  his  wife. 
Embittered  by  this  outrage  the  queen  urged  Gyges  to  kill  her 
husband,  promising  to  reward  him  with  her  hand  and  the 
throne.  He  accomplished  this  deed  and  after  putting  down 
a  rebellion  among  the  people  became  king  and  the  founder  of 
a  new  dynasty. 

While  recognizing  the  dramatic  possibilities  of  this  story, 
Hebbel  also  saw  that  certain  assumptions  in  it  would  be  hard 
for  modern  times  to  accept.  The  reader,  he  said,  would 
have  to  transfer  himself  to  a  remote  period  when  women,  like 
the  Helen  of  Homer,  were  possessions  to  be  fought  for 
rather  than  persons  of  free  will.  The  problem  of  this  drama 
is  therefore  akin  to  that  in  Herod  and  Mariamne.  We  have 
a  woman  of  surpassing  beauty,  a  husband  who  commits  a 
grievous  wrong  against  her,  and  a  friend  whom  he  uses  for 
that  purpose.  In  the  same  act  he  dishonors  both  his  wife 
and  his  friend.  In  each  case  the  husband  fails  to  compre- 
hend his  wife  as  truly  as  his  friend  does.  But  Gyges  and 
His  Ring  is  an  original  variation  of  this  theme  and  it  is  freer 
and  more  poetic  in  its  treatment  than  the  earlier  drama. 
Hebbel  gave  his  new  heroine  the  name  of  Rhodope.  He  said 
that  his  chief  difficulty  lay  in  making  her  convincing.     Per- 

199  "- 


200         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

haps  she  is  more  convincing  than  certain  phases,  at  least,  of 
the  other  characters,  but  we  shall  point  out  the  peculiarity 
of  her  motives.  Rhodope  is  not  a  Lydian  by  birth.  She  is 
from  a  land  where  women  are  held  in  strictest  seclusion, 
spending  their  days  in  dreams  and  considering  themselves 
polluted  should  the  eye  of  man  rest  upon  them.  With  the 
exception  of  her  father  and  her  husband  no  man  has  ever 
seen  her  face.  From  her  childhood  this  custom,  supported 
by  all  the  fervor  of  her  religious  faith,  has  been  ingrained 
and  inwoven  into  her  feelings.  Her  veil  is  a  part  of  her  very 
being,  the  symbol  of  her  modesty,  and  we  cannot  imagine  her 
apart  from  it.  Her  soul  is  like  the  white  leaf  of  the  lily, 
which  can  be  blighted  by  a  mere  touch.  Her  love  is  indeed 
a  priceless  possession  but  it  imposes  the  strictest  obligations 
on  its  recipient.  Nature  and  training  subject  her  to 
peculiar  emotions,  which  run  their  own  secret  course  in  her 
heart  and  make  of  it  a  sweet  mystery.  To  know  this  mystery 
and  yet  respect  it  is  the  task  that  Candaules  should  have 
taken  upon  himself. 

We  therefore  understand  what  Hebbel  meant  by  saying 
that  the  character  of  Candaules  was  th§  central  point  of  the 
tragedy.     Rhodope's  fate  is  absolutely  innis  hands.     Not 
only  upon  his  will,  even  more  upon  his  character  does  her 
happiness  depend.     Candaules  is  unfortunately  not  the  man 
to  handle  the  tender  fabric  of  her  dreams.     Though  in  many 
respects   a   noble   character   he   lacks   one   most   important 
quality:    reverence.     Among   his    people   he    is    a   quasi-re- 
:  former,  a  despiser  of  tradition  in  every  form.     Ahead  of  his 
v  times,   he   makes    fun    of   his    times.     He   has    brought   his 
Lydians   to   the  verge   of   revolt   by  his   contempt   for   the 
"rubbish  of  the  past,"  the  stuffed  dragon-hides,  the  booty  of 
his  great  ancestor,  Herakles,  the  huge  crown  and  the  giant 
sword.     He  does  not  see  why  he  should  not  have  a  new  crown 
»  and  new  sword.     In  the  same  spirit  he  misunderstands  the 
meaning  of  his  wife's  veil.     He  is  continually  twitching  at  it. 
He  would  persuade  her  against  her  will  to  attend  the  public 
games,  where  all  men  might  behold  her  beauty  and  know 
\     what  unique  charms  he  calls  his  own.     We  thus  see  that 
Rhodope  has  been  committed  into  dangerous  keeping. 


Gyges,  a  Volume  of  Stories  201 

The  latent  dangers  in  this  situation  are  called  forth  by 
the  entrance  of  Gyges  upon  the  scene.  The  gifted  Grecian, 
skilled  to  play  upon  the  lyre,  he  is  also  athlete  enough  to 
win  all  the  prizes  from  the  rude  Lydians  at  their  own  games. 
They  hold  him  in  high  esteem  and  many  of  them  would  be 
glad  to  have  him  rule  over  them  instead  of  the  peace-loving 
reformer,  Candaules.  This  does  not  tempt  Gyges,  however, 
for  he  and  the  King,  whose  relation  to  each  other  is  one  of 
the  finest  things  in_the  tragedy,  are  inseparable  friends. 
Candaules  is  forever  praising  the  beauty  of  his  wife  to  his 
companion.  To  all  this  Gyges  listens  half  indifferently. 
He  knows  nothing  about  women  and  what  natural  curiosity 
he  possesses  finds  more  gratification  in  the  visible  beauty 
of  Rhodope's  attendant,  Lesbia,  when  her  veil  is  lifted  by  the 
wind.     Candaules,  however, 

— was  like  a  priest  in  whom  a  flame 
Irradiant  burns,  and  who,  his  god  to  honor, 
Would  kindle  it  within  another's  bosom, 
And    when    o'ermastered,    passionately    heedless 
He  bares  of  veil  the  Holy  Mysteries.1 

A  magic  ring  that  Gyges  had  found  in  a  ruined  tomb  and 
given  to  Candaules  is  to  be  the  means  they  use.  When  the 
stone  is  turned  inward  the  wearer  of  the  ring  becomes  in- 
visible. Warned  by  an  inner  voice  Gyges  hesitates,  but 
finally  he  yields  to  his  friend's  importunities.  An  inexperi- 
enced youth  he  does  not  yet  realize  the  enormity  of  what  he 
is  doing.  But  the  sight  of  Rhodope's  beauty  completely 
changes  him.  He  had  never  before  come  under  the  spell  of 
a  woman  and  now  he  is  intoxicated  as  if  with  some  fatal  wine. 
With  his  awakened  love  comes  the  sense  of  horror  at  the 
outrage  he  has  done  the  beloved  object.  Candaules  at  first 
sees  in  this  altered  mood  of  his  friend  merely  the  most  con- 
vincing proof  of  his  triumph,  but  he  is  quickly  made  to  feel 
that  he  has  done  both  his  wife  and  his  friend  a  fatal  wrong. 
Gyges  surprises  him  by  offering  his  life  as  an  atonement  for 
his  deed,  and  this  being  refused,  prepares  to  take  his  leave 

l  The  quotations  are  from  Herod  and  Other  Plays  by  Frederic  Heb- 
bel,  translated  by  L.  H.  Allen.    Everyman,  p.  50. 


202         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

forever.  His  words  and  manner  convince  Candaules  that  he 
loves  Rhodope  and  therefore  he  consents  for  him  to  go. 

But  Rhodope's  suspicions  must  also  be  allayed.  Her 
quick  intuition  has  given  her  warning.  She  had  heard 
certain  sounds  and  she  imagined  that  she  had  caught  the 
flashing  outlines  of  a  figure — and  indeed  Gyges  in  his  con- 
fusion had  turned  the  ring  on  his  finger  for  a  second.  Thus 
Rhodope  believes  that  an  irreparable  wrong  has  been  donq 
her,  though  of  course  it  is  farthest  from  her  thought  to 
connect  her  husband  with  it. 

My  soul,  'tis  true ! 
Vain,  vain  the  salve  of  flattering  persuasion 
That  I  have  duped  my  senses.    Turn  thee,  Night, 
And  pall  me  in  the  dunnest  of  thy  veils ! 
I  am  defiled  as  never  yet  was  woman. 

In  a  masterful  scene  between  these  two  Candaules  all  but 
persuades  her  that  her  senses  deceived  her.  For  one  moment 
we  feel  that  the  danger  is  past  and  breathe  a  sigh  of  relief 
with  the  King,  who  at  last  sees  the  deep  injury  he  has  done 
his  wife.  But  his  very  eagerness  to  atone  ruins  everything. 
He  mentions  the  fact  that  Gyges,  whose  companionship  he 
fears  may  have  deprived  her  of  too  much  of  his  time,  is  on 
the  point  of  leaving.  This  name  is  the  lost  link  in  Rhodope's 
memory  and  she  knows  that  it  was  Gyges'  figure  that  flashed 
across  her  vision.  Knowing  of  the  magic  ring  she  now 
thinks  she  comprehends  what  has  happened.  She  infers  that 
her  husband,  aware  of  his  friend's  guilt,  is  sending  him 
away  unpunished.  This  is  for  her  an  even  more  terrible 
thought.  Thus  the  poet  gradually  builds  up  to  the  real 
climax  of  her  discovery.  Gyges  shall  not  escape  her  ven- 
geance. The  faithful  servants  whom  her  father  had  sent 
with  her  bring  him  into  her  presence.  Confessing  his  wrong 
at  once  he  offers  his  life  in  willing  atonement.  Rhodope, 
though  pitying  her  victim,  accepts  this  sacrifice  according  to 
the  custom  of  her  country. 

Gyges:      In  sooth  I  knew  it  not,  ay,  can  swear  it. 
Women  to  me  are  strange ;  but  as  the  boy 


Gyges,  a  Volume  of  Stories  203 

Thrusts  at  some  wondrous  bird  a  clutching  hand 
Rough  with  its  crush,  because  its  tender  nature 
He  knows  not,  though  his  will  was  to  caress, 
E'en  so  I  brought  the  jewel  of  this  world 
To  ruin,  all  unwitting  what  I  did. 

Rhod. :      His  word  is  noble.     Woe  to  him  and  me 
That  it  is  vain ! 

Gyges:  When  the  Castalian  fount, 

Which    god-delighting    men    have    for    their    drinking, 

And  which  from  shuttling  colours  takes  a  glance 

As  though  culled  blossoms  from  a  rain-bow  garden 

By  Iris'  very  hands  thereon  were  strown, 

When  in  this  fount,  that  from  Parnassus  springs, 

A  troubling  stone  is  flung,  it  falls  to  boiling 

And  starts  in  wheeling  turmoil  hilly-high. 

Then  sings  no  more  on  earth  the  nightingale 

Nor  evermore  the  lark,  and  in  the  heights 

A  dumbness  holds  the  Muses'  holy  choir, 

And  never  knows  the  harmony  returning 

Till  a  grim  stream  wraps  the  foolhardy  flinger 

Gnashing  him  down  into  its  lightless  depths. 

Thus  it  is  also  with  a  woman's  soul! 

Candaules,  who  is  a  witness  to  this  confession,  cannot,  of 
course,  thus  betray  his  friend. 
Kan. :     Gyges,  I  am  no  villain ! 
Gyges:  Lord,  you  are 

Rhodope's  husband,  shield  and  shelter  both, 

And  must  be  her  avenger. 
Kan. :      I'm  Man,  and  for  the  sacrilege  myself 

Committed,  suffer  no  man  else  to  die. 
Gyges:  King,  what  is  saved  by  this? 
Kan.:  Myself. 

Gyges:  He  raves; 

Give  him  no  hearkening  ear. 
Rhod.:  My  Lord  and  Consort, 

What  word  was  that?     I  scarce  believe  myself 

If  you  repeat  it  not. 

The  climax  is  reached  in  this  dramatic  scene.     Rhodope 


■x 


204t         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

though  fully  resolved  to  die,  must  first  remove  the  stain  from 
her  life.  With  the  threat  of  perishing  by  her  own  hand  if 
he  refuse,  she  compels  Gyges  to  slay  her  husband  in  combat. 
She  then  gives  him  her  hand  at  the  altar  as  she  had  promised. 

Rhod.:      And  now  step  back.     Be  faithful  to  your  vow 
As  I  keep  faith  with  mine.     My  stain  is  purged, 
For  none  has  seen  me  save  for  whom  'twas  meet. 
But  now  I  disunite  me  (stabs  herself)  thus  from  you! 

I  have  given  the  chain  of  motivation  as  favorably  as  I 
could  in  brief  compass.  It  will  scarcely  be  necessary  to  point 
out  the  weaker  links.  The  poet  in  his  complete  work  is  his  own 
best  advocate.  Particularly  fine  in  the  tragedy  is  the  rela- 
tion between  the  King  and  Gyges,  with  its  unswerving  loyalty 
to  the  end.  Caught  in  the  inexorable  tragedy  of  their  own 
making,  they  carry  through  their  part  like  true  and  heroic 
men. 

Kan.:  Then  give 

Your  hand  for  this  once  more. — Now  be  for  me 

A  tiger.     I  for  you  a  lion,  and  this 

The  wildwood  where  we  oft  have  led  the  chase. 

Hebbel  said  that  he  never  became  conscious  of  the  more 
universal  aspects  of  this  tragedy  until  the  end.  In  his  part- 
ing advice  to  Gyges,  Candaules  gives  him  the  result  of  his 
life's   experience,   bought   at  the  price   of  life   itself.      One 

hould  not  always  ask  what  a  thing  is  but  what  it  stands  for. 
It  may  stand  for  something  out  of  all  proportion  to  its  in- 
lerent  value.  If  the  King  had  recognized  this  truth  in  the 
beginning  he  would  not  so  lightly  have  interfered  with  the 
?eelings  of  his  people  and  his  wife.     He  does  not  respect  the 

>roper  limits  of  his  power.  Hebbel  makes  use  of  the  ring  as 
i  symbolic  element  only.  He  never  wrote  more  beautiful 
massages  than  those  in  which  its  subtle  influence  is  described. 

I  His  language,  usually  hard  and  glittering  like  the  diamond, 
ere  takes  on  the  warm  color  of  the  ruby.  It  is  plain  that 
the  ring  merely  gfives  jhe^character  an  opportujuty  to 
reveal  itself,  Both  Rhodope  and  Gyges  would  put  it  aside 
as  a  temptation  too  great  for  human  beings  to  withstand. 


Gyges,  a  Volume  of  Stories  205 

Only  Candaules  has  no  fear.  With  a  few  well  chosen  strokes 
the  poet  characterizes  Gyges  in  sharp  contrast  to  the  King, 
both  in  relation  to  the  Lydians  and  in  a  subtle  sympathy 
between  his  nature  and  that  of  the  Queen.  For  he  refuses  to 
set  the  crown  upon  his  head  until  the  people  have  chosen  him, 
and  the  Queen  says  to  him: 

You  never  had  allured  me  from  my  home 
To  wrong  me  thus. 

Thus  in  one  character  he  shows  the  false  relation  to  tradi- 
tion, in  the  other  the  true  relation. 

The  new  tragedy  sold  well,  though  the  theaters  seemed 
afraid  of  it.  It  was  first  presented  in  Vienna  in  1889.  The 
critics  condemned  it  as  a  whole,  but  praised  the  language. 
Hebbel  took  little  notice  of  these  criticisms. 

In  1855  Hebbel  at  last  managed  to  publish  a  volume  of 
his  stories,  a  thing  he  had  considered  often  enough.  Each 
of  the  seven  stories  in  this  collection  had  been  published  in 
separate  form  already.  Most  of  them  had  been  written 
at  a  much  earlier  date.  Three  of  them,  Matteo,  Anna  and 
The  Cow,  are  dramatic  in  the  extreme,  very  much  in  the 
style  of  Kleist.  Anna  has  already  been  characterized. 
Matteo,  written  in  Hamburg  during  the  composition  of 
Genoveva,  reflects  that  pessimistic  period  of  its  author's  life. 
It  is  the  study  of  an  attractive  and  promising  young  fellow 
whose  entire  position  is  changed  when  an  attack  of  smallpox 
completely  disfigures  him.  Because  of  his  horrible  appear- 
ance he  is  generally  taken  to  be  a  villain.  Circumstances  at 
last  induce  him  to  become  what  he  seems.  How  his  ugliness 
chances  to  turn  into  his  good  fortune,  however,  is  shown  in  a 
tragic  episode  that  threatens  to  overshadow  our  interest  in 
the  hero. 

The  Cow,  HebbePs  last  story  (1849),  was  considered 
by  him  and  his  friends  to  be  his  best,  and  generally  to  take 
high  rank.  The  material,  taken  from  a  newspaper,  is  strik- 
ing enough.  A  peasant  having  saved  enough  money  to  buy 
a  cow  counts  his  banknotes  by  candle-light,  while  his  three- 
year  old  boy  is  playing  around  the  table.  He  goes  out  to 
see  whether  the  cow  is  coming  and  the  child  burns  up  one 


:> 


206         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

banknote  after  another,  delighted  with  the  flames.  The 
father  returns,  sees  the  last  one  disappearing,  and  in  rage 
throws  the  child  against  the  wall,  killing  it.  He  then  hangs 
himself  in  the  garret.  His  wife  and  the  farm-hand  return 
with  the  cow,  find  the  child's  body  and  begin  to  search  for 
the  peasant.  The  farm-hand  climbs  the  ladder  to  the  garret, 
and  is  so  terrified  at  the  sight  of  his  master's  body  that  he 
falls  backward  and  breaks  his  neck.  From  the  light  he 
carried  in  his  hand  the  house  takes  fire  and  is  destroyed. 
Hebbel,  who  follows  these  outlines  closely,  gives  us  a  master- 
piece of  characterization  in  the  peasant,  and  in  general  the 
scene  leading  up  to  the  death  of  the  child,  who  is  led  to  burn 
the  notes  by  seeing  his  father  light  a  pipe,  could  not  be  better. 
Hebbel  knew  the  peasant,  how  hard  he  toils  and  how  he 
values  what  he  earns.  He  knew  the  narrow  circle  within 
which  that  type  of  human  being  is  included.  Hence  his 
Andreas  stands  before  us  like  a  masterpiece  of  genre  paint- 
ing. He  fingers  his  banknotes  with  affection,  counts  them  at 
least  nine  times,  knows  just  when  ancf  where  each  was  earned, 
a  torn  edge  of  one,  an  ink-spot  on  another.  He  smokes  a 
pipe  only  on  Sundays,  and  never,  even  when  wet  and  cold, 
spends  a  penny  for  drink.  All  his  life  he  has  worked  to  get 
two  mules  and  this  cow.  He  must  leave  it  to  his  son  to  get 
a  horse.  The  cow  is  the  center  of  years  of  hope  and  labor. 
The  rest  of  the  story  proceeds  rapidly,  according  to  the 
account.  Only  here  the  mother  sinks  in  a  faint  over  her 
child,  and  is  destroyed  by  the  flames.  And  to  complete  the 
ruin  to  the  last  tittle  the  poor  cow  rushes  into  the  flames 
and  perishes,  an  addition  likely  to  produce  a  very  different 
effect  from  that  which  Hebbel  intended. 

Of  the  remaining  stories,  two,  Paul's  Most  Remarkable 
Night,  and  A  Night  in  the  Huntsman's  Lodge,  deal  with  the 
emotion  of  fear  aroused  in  predisposed  minds  by  all  kinds  of 
mysterious  circumstances.  That  Hebbel  possessed  the 
means  for  this  sort  of  story,  has  been  shown  clearly  enough 
in  the  discussion  of  his  ballads.  Here,  however,  the  fear 
turns  out  in  a  more  or  less  humorous  fashion  to  be  ground- 
less. The  other  two  stories  are  character  studies,  ont?  of  an 
eccentric  tailor  who  sees  in  every  event  only  personal  malice 


Gyges,  a  Volume  of  Stories  207 

of  fate  against  himself,  the  other,  which  is  much  more  suc- 
cessful, of  an  irresponsible  ne'er-do-well  named  Haidvogel. 
This  worthy,  having  spent  all  his  considerable  fortune  and 
reduced  his  wife  and  two  children  to  bitter  need,  is,  at  the 
opening  of  the  story,  engaged  in  breaking  up  his  last  chair 
to  cook  his  last  potatoes.  But  his  optimism  is  unconquer- 
able. He  lives  in  a  world  where  at  any  time  a  golden  crown 
may  fall  upon  the  poorest  head — at  least  he  thinks  he  does. 
His  hope  is  centered  on  his  wife's  rich  uncle,  who  is  ex- 
pected to  die  soon.  And  he  really  dies  soon,  from  a  fit  of 
apoplexy  caused  by  Haidvogel  himself  and  just  before  being 
able  to  disinherit  his  niece  for  marrying  such  a  vagabond. 
The  hero  is  just  planning  with  his  vivid  imagination  what  he 
will  do  with  the  money,  when  his  wife  announces  her  intention 
of  managing  their  affairs  in  the  future. 

In  the  summer  of  1855  Hebbel  decided  to  risk  a  part  of 
his  savings  in  a  modest  house  and  lot  in  Gmunden  on  the 
Traunsee.  However  great  the  distance,  he  said,  between 
Shakespeare  and  himself,  he  would  sooner  have  hoped  to 
approach  that  poet  in  some  scene  or  character  than  in  the 
possession  of  a  house.  From  now  on  the  family  spent  their 
summers  in  this  idyllic  repose.  Hebbel  was  thoroughly 
content.  The  daily  round  of  life  with  its  ordinary  blessing 
seemed  to  him  a  continual  benediction  of  Heaven.  His 
happiness  was  bound  up  in  his  wife  and  little  girl,  by  whom 
he  suffered  himself  to  be  adored,  we  are  told,  with  a  kind  of 
patient  resignation.  The  course  of  his  life  now  furnishes  a 
complete  and  satisfactory  contrast  with  its  early  prolonged 
poverty  and  bitterness.  In  surveying  the  obstacles  he  over- 
came and  the  progress  he  made,  we  cannot  suppress  the 
feeling  that  providence  is  kind  to  those  of  a  firm  will.  The 
poet's  only  concern  for  his  present  condition  was  that  it 
might  not  endure.  The  heights,  he  said,  had  been  reached — 
the  only  future  course  lay  downward. 

Though  Hebbel  was  a  tragic  poet  through  and  through, 
who  saw  in  comedy  itself  only  a  more  poignant  tragedy,  the 
present'  harmony  of  his  own  existence  led  him  now,  for  the 
first  time  indeed  on  a  larger  scale,  to  portray  human  life 
from  an  idyllic  point  of  view.     For  this  purpose  he  chose 


208         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

the  form  of  verse  narrative,  which  had  once  more  become 
popular  in  Germany.  The  result  was  an  epic  poem  in  dac- 
tyllic  hexameters  in  seven  cantos,  under  the  title  of  Mother 
and  Child.  As  in  the  case  of  Hebbel's  works  generally  the 
idea  for  this  poem  was  one  of  long  standing  in  his  mind. 
Completed  in  1857  and  published  two  years  later,  it  was 
honored  with  the  Tiedge  prize,  which  had  been  offered  for  an 
epic  in  the  style  of  Hermann  and  Dorothea.  The  story, 
briefly,  is  that  of  a  rich  merchant  and  his  wife  who  have 
remained  childless.  While  he,  in  turning  his  wealth  to  good 
use  for  the  poor,  is  reconciled  to  this  fate,  his  wife,  uncon- 
sciously from  selfish  and  vain  motives,  is  in  danger  of  em- 
bittering both  his  existence  and  her  own  through  the 
extravagance  of  her  discontent.  Upon  the  advice  of  an  old 
family  doctor  they  offer  to  set  up  Christian  and  Magdalene, 
two  of  their  servants,  on  a  farm,  which  shall  become  their 
own  on  condition  that  their  first  child  be  given  up  secretly 
and  passed  off  as  the  merchant's  child.  The  poor  couple, 
whose  only  hope  of  union  lies  in  this  plan,  accept  it  only  to 
find,  especially  the  mother,  that  they  have  not  the  strength 
for  the  sacrifice  when  it  is  actually  demanded.  They  take 
flight  with  the  child  but  are  finally  discovered  after  having 
experienced  extreme  want.  The  merchant  gives  them  the 
farm,  as  he  had  intended  anyhow  even  if  they  had  refused 
his  condition,  and  his  wife  realizes  the  enormity  of  the  de- 
mand she  had  made  on  a  mother  and  the  wretchedness  that 
might  have  resulted  from  it.  Her  selfish  motives  become 
clear  to  her  and  she  learns  resignation  to  the  will  of  Provi- 
dence. 

Though  from  this  outline  the  poem  might  seem  to  be 
concerned  chiefly  with  the  merchant  and  his  wife,  such  is  not 
at  all  the  case.  The  title,  Mother  and  Child,  indicates  where 
the  emphasis  is  laid.  The  least  interesting  parts  of  the 
narrative  have  to  do  with  the  merchant  and  his  wife,  neither 
of  whom  enlists  our  sympathies  deeply,  except  perhaps  in 
the  closing  canto.  Their  activities  serve  mainly  as  a  frame 
for  the  real  picture.  Wherever  the  life  and  relations  of 
Christian  and  Magdalene  are  touched  the  poet  speaks  from 
his  heart.     In  the  former,  who  bears  one  of  HebbePs  own 


Gyges,  a  Volume  of  Stories  209 

names,  he  set  a  monument  to  Wesselburen,  to  the  sturdy 
character  of  those  peasants  whose  lives  he  knew  from  boy- 
hood, to  their  strength  of  body  and  mind,  to  their  sane 
judgment  and  their  moral  earnestness.  A  fitting  companion 
he  depicts  in  Magdalene,  whose  quiet  intensity  dawns  upon 
us  gradually  in  the  course  of  the  poem.  We  see  these  two 
in  their  first  hopes,  in  their  joyous  work  together,  each  in 
the  suitable  sphere,  in  their  common  happiness  over  their 
child  as  it  begins  to  take  notice  of  them — passages  of  par- 
ticular beauty,  a  reflex  of  the  poet's  family  life — in  their 
first  dispute,  when  Magdalene  refuses  to  give  up  her  boy  and 
Christian  insists  on  keeping  his  word.  Then  follows  her 
flight  alone  with  the  child.  He  finds  her  after  anxious  hours, 
and  her  instinct  having  shown  him  the  right  way  they  now 
flee  together.  Whatever  wealth  Hebbel  had  assembled  in 
the  way  of  observation  of  nature  and  insight  into  human 
relations  found  natural  expression  in  this  material.  And 
that  wealth  is  truly  astonishing.  It  is  not  surpassed  by 
many  poets. 

Besides  the  personal  elements  of  the  work  we  should  \ 
especially  notice  the  broad  background  against  which  it  is 
outlined.  The  poet  here  found  a  place  for  his  convictions 
on  many  important  questions  of  the  day.  In  this  way  he 
creates  the  atmosphere  of  his  poem.  We  see  how  the 
Eldorado  of  California  gold  mines  appeared  to  the  hard 
pressed  German  of  the  mid-century.  Christian,  as  little 
covetous  as  he  is,  is  forced  by  necessity  to  look  in  that 
direction,  from  which  come  reports  of  horrible  deeds  as  well 
as  of  marvelous  fortunes.  The  poet  also  pictures  for  us  the 
great  Hamburg  fire,  its  most  terrible  sight  being  the  poor 
driven  out  of  their  wretched  lodgings  like  rats  from  their 
holes.  Over  against  this  and  against  Christian's  want  is 
placed  the  opulence  of  the  merchant,  who,  however,  realizes 
that  his  wealth  is  a  commission  in  his  hands  to  aid  those 
less  fortunate.  And  we  are  shown,  if  not  exactly  his  wife's 
world,  at  least  that  world  with  which  she  comes  in  contact, 
in  which  vain  women  adorn  themselves  for  effect  and  never 
give  a  thought  to  the  wretchedness  that  surrounds  them. 
The  revolution,  too,  sounds  warningly  in  the  person  of  the 


210         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

joiner,  who  has  returned  from  America  and  now  expects  to 
see  a  paradise  of  freedom  and  wealth  in  Europe.  Opposed 
to  this,  Christian,  even  in  his  gloomiest  hour,  sternly  defends 
order  against  chaos.  Here  again  we  hear  the  voice  of  the 
poet,  who,  like  his  own  hero,  came  from  a  poverty-stricken 
home  in  Wesselburen. 

If  we  compare  Hebbel's  poem  with  Hermann  and 
Dorothea,  we  find  that  the  conflicts  are  sharper  and  the 
passions  more  intense.  On  the  other  hand  we  miss  the 
perfectly  even  adjustment  of  all  the  elements  from  beginning 
to  end,  the  unquestioned  solution  of  every  difficulty,  the 
sovereign  unfolding  of  each  scene  and  character  that  so 
distinguish  Goethe's  poem  from  others.  These  qualities 
Hebbel  attains  in  the  last  half  of  his  poem  more  generally 
than  in  the  first.  While  both  Christian  and  Magdalene  are 
introduced  in  the  first  canto,  our  impressions  of  the  latter 
are  not  sharply  defined  there.  The  second  canto  is  a  kind 
of  dramatic  monologue  taken  up  almost  entirely  by  the 
merchant,  and,  indirectly  through  him,  by  his  wife.  Her 
characterization  is  continued  in  the  third  canto.  Yet 
neither  of  these  characters  is  particularly  distinct  in  our 
minds.  Hebbel  portrays  chiefly  by  action  and  conversation. 
The  speeches  of  the  persons  themselves,  while  more  realistic 
in  the  choice  of  words,  are  not  as  individualizing  as  in 
Goethe,  nor  is  he  careful  to  let  us  see  his  persons  as  others 
see  them.  In  this  respect  the  poem  would  suffer  most 
perhaps  by  comparison  with  Hermann  and  Dorothea. 
Hebbel  makes  a  moderate  use  of  description,  which  is  excep- 
tionally well  done.  In  none  of  his  works  is  a  quiet  objec- 
tivity more  noticeable.  His  models  were  evidently  Homer 
and  Goethe.  Finally,  the  whole  poem  is  pervaded  by  a  spirit 
which  is  Hebbel's  own — a  certain  moral  grandeur,  a  bene- 
ficial decisiveness  in  human  crises,  a  severe  and  impartial 
judgment  of  right  and  wrong,  the  voice  of  the  poet  that  is 
at  the  same  time  a  prophet. 

Mother  and  Child  was  welcomed  by  Hebbel's  friends,  who 
regarded  it  as  the  only  genuine  epic  since  Herman  and 
Dorothea.  Hebbel  wrote  to  Kuno  Fischer,  requesting  him 
to  review  the  poem  if  he  thought  fit,  that  is,  if  he  considered 


Gyges,  a  Volume  of  Stories  211 

its  basis  sufficiently  universal.  Hebbel  believed  that  he  had 
taken  the  broadest  possible  basis,  the  relation  between 
mother  and  child,  just  as  Goethe  had  presented  the  relation 
between  lovers.  Fischer,  however,  did  not  accede  to  Heb- 
bel's wish  because  the  poem  seemed  to  him  too  individual  and 
particular  in  its  treatment. 

In  the  same  year  (1857)  Hebbel,  though  also  busy  on 
his  most  ambitious  work,  the  Nibelungen,  was  able  to  prepare 
the  final  edition  of  his  poems  for  publication.  He  dedicated 
the  volume  to  that  poet  whom  he  honored  most  among  the 
living,  Ludwig  Uhland.  The  collection  contained  new  poems 
and  epigrams,  while  the  older  were  carefully  filed  and  their 
final  arrangement  was  determined  upon.  The  poems  were 
published  by  Cotta,  whom  Hebbel  had  repeatedly  endeavored 
to  interest  in  his  work.  They  were  well  received  throughout 
Germany.  Hebbel  evidently  expected  at  this  time  to  gain 
more  concessions  from  the  Augsburg  General  News,  which, 
being  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  cut  him  off  from  the 
literary  world  outside  Germany.  A  friendly  correspon- 
dence with  Cotta,  however,  showed  him  that  the  latter 
had  little  to  do  with  the  paper,  and  the  half-hearted  relation 
he  then  established  with  the  editors  soon  ended.  What 
Hebbel  himself  thought  of  his  poems  can  be  seen  from  his 
letter  to  Gutzkow,  accompanying  his  "ripest  and  richest" 
book.  In  that  same  letter  he  confesses  himself  to  be  an 
adherent  of  "old  Germany."  In  a  much  quoted  review  of 
Hebbel's  poems,  Paul  Heyse  characterized  their  author  as 
interesting,  forceful,  and  lonely,  but  too  conscious  ano! 
lacking  overflowing  joy  in  his  work.  In  addition,  to  some 
very  justifiable  blame  for  the  involved  style  of  many  of  the 
sonnets,  he  condemned  poems  like  The  Child  at  the  Well 
and  the  Heath  Lad,  which  are  now  well  established  in  the 
literature. 

Hebbel's  only  attempt  at  an  opera  text  fell  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  following  year  (1858).  This  was  named  The 
Casting  of  a  Stone  and  was  done  for  Rubinstein,  who  paid  a 
good  price  for  it.  The  comments  from  both  sides,  when  put 
together,  sound  like  an  extract  from  Spoon  River  Anthology. 
Hebbel  believed  that  he  had  learned  a  good  deal  about  the 


212         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

relation  between  music  and  poetry,  explained  how  he  had 
been  compelled  to  restrain  his  own  ideas  in  working  by  a 
prescribed  plan,  and  in  order  not  to  encroach  upon  the 
sphere  of  the  music,  and  added  that  this  insignificant  work 
had  brought  him  in  more  than  Judith,  Genoveva,  The 
Diamond,  and  the  poems,  all  together.  Rubinstein  wrote 
to  a  friend  on  the  same  occasion:  "At  last  I  have  the  opera 
text  from  Hebbel.  I  am  unfortunate  with  opera  texts. 
Here  are  eight  hundred  gulden  thrown  away  ...  an  im- 
mature product,  without  knowledge  of  the  stage,  no  char- 
acterization, and  silly  verses."2  The  work  fully  upholds 
Rubinstein's  opinion. 

By  1858,  Hebbel  tells  us,  the  last  one  of  his  dramas  had 
vanished  from  the  Burgtheater.  This  was  not  the  case 
elsewhere.  In  Dingelstedt,  Hebbel  possessed  a  faithful 
friend.  Dingelstedt,  who  had  in  the  meantime  exchanged 
Munich  for  Weimar,  now  arranged  for  a  presentation  of 
Genoveva  in  that  town.  He  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  this 
work,  and  he  intended,  with  the  assistance  of  the  author,  to 
give  it  in  as  nearly  the  real  form  as  possible.  As  an  especial 
honor  it  was  given  on  the  Grand  Duke's  birthday.  The  weeks 
spent  by  Hebbel  during  that  summer  in  Weimar  were  among 
the  happiest  of  his  life.  He  was  received  with  every  mark  of 
cordiality  and  distinction  by  the  Grand  Duke,  who  also  con- 
ferred on  him  the  order  of  his  house.  He  associated  inti- 
mately with  Liszt,  while  in  the  young  Princess  Marie  Witt- 
genstein he  met  one  of  the  most  valued  friends  of  his  later 
years.  Unlike  his  Munich  experiences  these  ended  without 
dissonance  of  any  kind.  For  the  next  year  (1859)  Dingel- 
stedt was  planning  a  great  celebration  in  honor  of  Schiller's 
hundredth  birthday,  and  Hebbel  was  urged  to  complete  his 
Demetrius  for  that  occasion.  All  Germany,  says  Hebbel, 
was  expecting  him  to  complete  Schiller's  unfinished  Deme- 
trius but  he  realized  that  his  drama  must  be  a  different  work. 


*  Br.  Ill,  p.  114 


CHAPTER  XIV 

the  Nibelungen  and  Demetrius 

THE  Nibelungen,  together  with  the  unfinished  Demetrius, 
was  HebbePs  last  considerable  production.  For  more 
than  four  years  (1855  to  March  22,  1860)  he  had  been  en- 
gaged, though  with  frequent  interruptions,  upon  the 
Nibelungen,  the  greatest  theme  since  Homer.  As  the  Iliad 
forever  preserves  for  us  the  truest  record  of  a  whole  human 
epoch,  so  the  Nibelungenlied  shows  us,  though  as  through 
a  veil,  the  Germanic  world  before  it  yielded  to  the  pervasive 
influence  of  Christianity  and  a  foreign  culture.  Our  Ger- 
manic ancestors  stand  complete  before  us  as  only  the  poetic 
imagination  can  portray  them — their  faults  and  their  noble 
qualities,  their  superstitions  and  their  social  ideals,  their 
love  of  life  and  their  contempt  of  death,  the  dark  forests  in 
which  they  dwelt,  surrounded  by  savage  beasts,  their  greed 
for  gold  and  fame,  their  eagerness  for  battle,  their  insatiate 
thirst  for  revenge,  their  honor  of  bravery  and  that  highest 
of  their  ideals,  fidelity  to  an  oath. 

The  German  Nibelungenlied  is  the  glory  of  the  golden 
age  of  middle  high  German  literature.  It  was  no  little  thing 
even  to  approach  such  a  subject.  Others,  Fouque,  Raupach, 
Geibel,  had  attempted  it  without  great  success,  and  Fr.  Th. 
Vischer  had  pointed  out  in  a  critical  essay  what  their  failure 
seemed  to  confirm,  that  almost  insuperable  difficulties  must 
be  overcome  before  the  story  could  form  the  subject  of 
a  modern  drama.  He  believed  it  was  better  adapted  to  a 
modern  opera,  thus  foretelling  the  work  of  Wagner.  Hebbel 
had  both  carefully  considered  Vischer's  essay  and  thoroughly 
criticised  the  existing  dramas,  all  with  reference  to  the 
possibilities  of  his  own  dramatization.  He  was  therefore 
familiar  with  the  main  aspects  of  the  subject.  The  diffi- 
culties were  plain.  First  of  all  there  were  the  mythical 
elements:  the  supernatural  qualities  of  Siegfried  and  Brun- 
hild, the  crudities  of  the  combat  for  her  possession.     How 

213 


21 4         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

could  such  things  be  made  convincing  on  the  stage?  The 
chief  difficulty,  however,  was,  as  Vischer  pointed  out,  the  sub- 
jectivity necessary  to  character  in  the  modern  drama.  If 
the  poet  should  give  Siegfried,  Hagen,  and  Gunther  the 
inner  complexity  needed  to  make  them  appeal  to  the  modern 
mind,  they  would  be  different  persons  entirely  from  what 
they  are  in  the  Nibelungenlied.  Their  very  being  depended 
on  a  naive  inner  life,  on  simple  motives  followed  unhesitat- 
ingly by  energetic  action.  Hebbel  recognized  the  truth  of 
this  observation  and  soon  determined  that  no  modern 
attempt  could  be  successful  which  did  not  keep  close  to 
the  grand  fundamental  lines  of  the  characters  in  the  old 
story.  But  he  thought  that  even  if  this  primitive  grandeur 
and  strength  were  preserved,  it  would  still  be  possible  to 
venture  far  enough  into  subjective  motives  to  make  a 
dramatic  whole.  And  just  in  this  respect  he  exercised  con- 
tinual restraint  upon  himself  and  confessed  the  reluctance 
with  which  he  cast  overboard  many  a  good  thought  in  order 
to  preserve  the  spiritual  inflexibility  of  his  persons.  Unless 
he  could  succeed  with  this  fresco  style,  he  knew  that  these  old 
figures  would  be  summoned  out  of  the  past  only  to  seem  like 
swaggering  and  cruel  prattlers.  He  aspired  to  handle  his 
theme  with  a  sort  of  Shakespearean  grasp. 

Over  against  these  and  other  obstacles  in  his  way,  such 
as  the  technical  problem  of  showing  the  grand  catastrophe, 
must  be  set  HebbePs  special  qualifications  for  undertaking 
a  Nibelungen  tragedy.  These  will  be  immediately  apparent 
if  we  examine  the  dramatic  aspects  of  the  subject.  We 
know  that  he  expected  to  find  dramatic  themes  particularly 
at  the  great  transition  periods  in  the  world's  history,  when 
the  old  order  gives  place  to  a  new.  And  in  his  imagination 
the  Nibelungenlied  shows  us  the  Germanic  world  in  the  very 
act  of  yielding  to  the  sign  of  the  cross.  Again,  we  think  of 
the  sacredness  of  the  individual,  which  he  so  often  emphasizes, 
especially  in  his  great  heroines,  in  Judith,  Mariamne,  and 
Rhodope.  And  the  deception  of  Brunhild  stands  out  as  a 
preeminent  example  of  this  sin,  for  Brunhild  is  the  medium 
of  exchange  between  Siegfried  and  Gunther.  Further,  we 
recall  his  conception  of  character,  that  it  should  not  be 


■i 


The  Nibelungen  and  Demetrius  215 

finished  but  growing,  we  should  see  its  beginning  and  its  end. 
And  none  of  his  former  themes  could  possibly  have  furnished 
him  a  person  more  adapted  to  this  purpose  than  Kriemhild 
in  her  transition  from  a  gentle  girl  to  a  demon  of  vengeance. 
We  Know  that  Hebbel  was  particularly  impressed  with  this 
development  in  the  acting  of  Christine,  who  played  Raupach's 
Kriemhild.  Then,  too,  in  Siegfried  we  have  the  tragedy  of 
individual  excess,  a  transgression  of  the  limits  assigned  to 
men.  For  Hagen  reasons  that  if  Siegfried  cannot  be 
wounded  he  has  no  right  to  fight  and  must  be  slain  by  fair 
means  or  foul,  like  the  dragon  in  whose  blood  he  bathed. 
Finally,  the  very  difficulty  presented  by  the  mythical  ele- 
ments was  attractive  to  a  poet  who  was  a  mystic  and  who  had 
faith  enough  to  accept  the  wonderful  without  attempting  to 
explain  it. 

Besides  these  striking  relationships  between  his  past 
works  and  his  new  material  there  was  also,  it  seems,  in  Heb- 
bel's  own  nature  a  subtle  rapport  with  the  heroes  of  the  old 
Germanic  world,  most  of  all  with  the  grim  Hagen,  whose 
gaunt  figure  dominates  the  Nibelungerilied  as  well  as  Hebbel's 
tragedy.  The  indomitable  courage  with  which  Hebbel  made 
room  for  himself  in  a  hostile  world,  the  unflinching  assurance 
with  which  he  asserted  his  opinions,  the  swift  and  uncompro- 
mising account  he  demanded  of  his  enemies,  the  absolute  hon- 
esty of  combat,  the  self-reliance,  the  fearless  anticipation  of 
death — all  these  traits  he  shared  with  Hagen,  whom  he  so 
successfully  explains.  Also  he  shared  with  him  the  self- 
consciousness  that  relies  on  innate  strength  rather  than  on 
grace  or  elegance,  on  elemental  force  rather  than  on  tricks 
of  convention.  This  personal  sympathy  is  indicated  in  the 
dedicatory  lines  to  his  wife.  He  there  relates  how  he  first 
in  his  youth  read  the  old  story,  and  how  its  figures  pursued 
him,  and  how,  finally,  when  he  had  seen  her  play  in  Raupach's 
drama,  they  all  came  out  of  the  past  to  greet  him  and  Hagen 
Tronje  spoke  the  first  word.  And  true  to  this  vision  he 
opens  his  trilogy  with  a  bold,  characteristic  utterance  of 
Hagen,  and  Hagen  is  the  center  of  interest  in  practically 
every  important  see  ie  that  follows,  undaunted  even  by  Sieg- 
fried, Etzel,  and  the  mighty  Dietrich  of  Berne. 


216         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

Hebbel's  chief  source  was  the  German.  Nibelungenlied, 
which  best  suited  his  determination  to  remain  in  the  sphere 
of  human  motives.  But  he  borrowed  from  Norse  tradition 
as  far  as  was  necessary  to  furnish  the  background :  the  dim 
twilight  of  northern  faith,  the  receding  shadows  of  Wodan 
and  his  associate  gods,  the  grotesque  dwarfs  of  the  under- 
world, the  story  of  the  dragon  and  its  miraculous  blood,  the 
faint  shimmer  of  mermaids  and  nixies,  the  norn-like  inspira- 
tion of  Brunhild  and  Frigga,  her  attendant,  who  was  still 
under  the  influence  of  runes  and  their  revelation — all  this 
was  necessary  to  give  life  and  body  to  the  characters  of  the 
tragedy.  It  was  the  atmosphere  they  breathed,  the  stuff 
of  their  stories  and  their  dreams.  But  the  poet  excluded 
all  this  from  his  chain  of  motives.  That  is  forged  of  links 
that  we  can  touch  and  handle,  so  that  it  does  not  fade  away 
when  we  seize  it.  Hebbel  said  that  he  found  the  greater  part 
of  this  work  done  for  him  in  advance  by  the  unknown  author, 
whom  he  assumed  to  have  written  the  epic,  and  whom  he  con- 
sidered a  "dramatist  from  head  to  foot."  His  own  role  he 
conceived  to  be  that  of  an  interpreter. 

Hebbel  divides  his  material  into  three  parts:  a  kind  of 
prologue  in  one  act,  and  two  five  act  tragedies.  These 
parts  are  Siegfried,  Siegfried's  Death,  and  Kriernhild's 
Revenge.  The  first  is  a  thorough  exposition  of  the  whole 
situation.  We  are  made  acquainted  with  the  Burgundian 
Court,  Hagen,  Volker,  Gunther,  and  his  brothers,  his  mother, 
Ute,  and  his  sister,  Kriemhild.  In  Hagen's  opening  words 
not  only  is  the  keynote  of  his  bold,  defiant  character  struck 
clearly,  but  the  keynote  of  the  conflict  between  the  old  Ger- 
manic and  the  new  Christian  world.  Siegfried  is  introduced, 
he  is  victorious  in  the  games,  his  history  is  told,  and  the 
expedition  to  Isenland  for  the  purpose  of  overcoming  Brun- 
hild is  planned.  The  importance  of  silence  is  emphasized 
dramatically  at  the  end  of  the  prologue  by  Hagen,  who 
places  his  finger  on  his  lips,  looks  at  Siegfried  and  strikes  on 
his  sword. 

Siegfried's  Death  shows  in  the  firsi  act  how  Brunhild  is 
won  by  deceit.  Hebbel  keeps  the  actual  combat  wholly  in 
the  background  and  expends  his  chief  energy  in  characteriz- 


The  Nibelungen  and  Demetrius  £17 

ing  Brunhild  as  Valkyrie  who  has  almost  forgotten,  but 
would  like  to  recall,  her  origin  and  destiny.  From  Frigga 
she  knows  that  she  was  destined  to  belong  to  the  man  who 
killed  the  dragon,  and  won  the  Nibelungen  hoard.  He  would 
burst  through  the  flaming  wall  that  surrounded  her  castle 
and  claim  her  for  his  possession.  These  deeds  have  been 
accomplished,  the  flames  have  disappeared,  and  yet  the 
conqueror  has  not  come.  For,  according  to  Hebbel's  inven- 
tion, Siegfried,  rendered  invisible  by  his  magic  cloak,  had 
seen  Brunhild  when  he  broke  through  the  fire,  but  had  with- 
drawn untouched  by  her  beauty.  Frigga  now  fears  she  has 
misread  the  runes.  As  in  the  Nibelungenlied,  when  Sieg- 
fried and  Gunther  appear  before  her,  she  first  addresses  the 
former  because  of  his  commanding  presence.  But  Siegfried 
represents  himself  as  Gunther's  retainer.  Just  before  enter- 
ing upon  the  combat  which  is  to  end  in  her  defeat,  she  has  a 
vision  of  her  victory  and  her  future  domination  of  the  world. 

The  second  act  relates  the  introduction  of  Brunhild  in 
Worms,  the  double  wedding,  and  the  necessity  of  Siegfried 
again  subduing  the  superhuman  Brunhild  for  Gunther.  In 
the  third  we  see  the  fruits  of  deception.  First  of  all  Kriem- 
hild's  jealousy  is  aroused  by  the  girdle  that  Siegfried  acci- 
dentally retained  from  his  second  combat  with  Brunhild,  and 
Siegfried,  unskilled  in  deception,  is  forced  to  tell  her  the 
whole  secret  in  order  to  satisfy  her  questions.  This  step  is 
fatal  because  of  the  attitude  and  position  of  Brunhild  and 
her  presentiments  of  something  amiss.  Frigga  encourages 
her  in  this  state  of  mind,  especially  after  learning  that 
Siegfried  is  in  possession  of  the  Nibelungen  hoard. 

At  this  point  in  his  tragedy  Hebbel  reached  one  of  his 
chief  difficulties.  How  should  he  represent  the  relation  be- 
tween Siegfred  and  Brunhild?  The  Nibelungenlied  is  not 
clear  on  this  question,  taking  over  Brunhild's  hatred  of 
Siegfried  without  a  satisfactory  explanation.  The  Norse 
tradition  clears  this  up,  to  be  sure,  by  telling  of  a  magic 
potion  that  Kriemhild's  mother  gave  Siegfried,  causing  him 
to  desert  Brunhild  for  her  daughter.  But  Hebbel,  having 
determined  to  remain  within  the  sphere  of  human  motives, 
could  not  use  this  explanation.     He  explains  the  motive  of 


218         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

hatred,  which  is  suppressed  jealousy,  in  a  natural  and  satis- 
factory manner.  From  the  first  Brunhild  had  selected  Sieg- 
fried as  the  greater  man.  She  addressed  her  greeting  to 
him  first,  and  now  that  she  is  the  wife  of  Gunther  she  cannot 
endure  the  seeming  superiority  of  Siegfried.  For  Siegfried, 
modest  as  he  is,  cannot  conceal  his  easy  mastery.  He  is 
the  real  king.  His  efforts  to  play  the  retainer  are  as  in- 
adequate as  his  efforts  to  explain  to  his  wife  the  presence  of 
the  girdle  she  has  found.  Brunhild  has  the  feeling  that  her 
husband  is  inferior  to  Siegfried.  She  therefore,  in  full 
keeping  with  her  character,  urges  him  to  conquer  Siegfried, 
as  she  will  not  belong  to  any  but  the  strongest  man.  To 
this  demand  he  is  of  course  unequal.  It  is  this  same  state  of 
mind  in  Brunhild  from  which  the  quarrel  between  the  two 
women  grows  concerning  their  husbands,  and  thus  the  fatal 
secret  that  Kriemhild  now  possesses  is  revealed.  When 
Brunhild  realizes  that  the  man  whom  the  runes  declared 
destined  to  conquer  her  has  despised  her  for  another,  has 
even  bartered  her  off  to  his  inferior,  her  jealousy  turns  to 
hatred  and  she  demands  his  death. 

The  remainder  of  this  part  shows  Hagen's  plans  for 
revenge,  the  murder  of  Siegfried,  and  the  cathedral  scene 
where  the  wounds,  bleeding  anew  upon  Hagen's  approach, 
prove  him  to  be  guilty.  The  great  change  in  Kriemhild  has 
begun.  Over  against  her  plea  for  justice,  which  Gunther, 
for  fear  of  Hagen  and  because  of  his  own  guilt,  denies  her, 
stands  the  priest  with  his  warning  that  vengeance  belongs  to 
the  Lord.  The  priest  says :  "Think  of  him  who  forgave  on  the 
cross  !"  But  Kriemhild  replies :  "Judgment !  judgment !  and  if 
the  King  refuses  it  he  himself  is  covered  with  this  blood." 
Hitherto  Kriemhild  has  been  a  follower  of  the  new  teaching, 
but  now  her  passion  sweeps  its  influence  away  and  she  begins 
that  course  of  revenge  which  at  last  leads  victim  and  avenger 
alike  to  destruction.  Here  at  the  close  of  Siegfried's  Death, 
the  Germanic  and  the  Christian  ideal  fight  for  supremacy. 
Kriemhild  chooses  the  sword  only  to  perish  by  the  sword. 

This  dramatic  close  of  the  second  part  of  the  trilogy  is 
at  the  same  time  the  initial  chord  of  its  third  part,  Kriem- 
hild's  Revenge.     The  difficulties  inherent  in  the  material  of 


The  Nibelungen  and  Demetrius  219 

this  work  were  less  successfully  overcome  by  the  poet.  There 
is  in  it  rather  outward  movement  than  dramatic  action, 
and  the  underlying  idea  of  transition  from  Germanic  to 
Christian  Weltanschauung  finds  little  beyond  a  formal  em- 
bodiment. The  poet's  intentions  are  the  more  apparent  as 
his  subject  eludes  his  art.  The  third  part  of  the  trilogy  has 
also  met  with  less  success  on  the  stage  than  the  other  two 
parts. 

The  first  act  is  concerned  with  Etzel's  suit  for  Kriem- 
hild's  hand.  As  in  the  Nibelungenlied,  the  messenger  is 
Rudeger  of  Bechlaren.  Hebbel  is  particularly  careful  to 
show  us  that  Kriemhild  accepts  the  new  relation  because  it 
offers  her  the  possibility  of  vengeance.  Hagen's  advice 
against  the  union  determines  her  in  favor  of  it.  Only,  how- 
ever, when  Gunther  repeatedly  refuses  her  demands  for 
justice,  does  she  consent  to  become  Etzel's  wife.  Rudeger, 
of  whom  she  requires  the  fatal  oath  that  binds  him  personally 
to  her  service,  does  not  recognize  in  her  the  demonic  qualities 
that  subsequent  events  were  destined  to  unfold.  In  this  skil- 
ful way  the  gradual  development  of  her  nature  is  revealed. 
Not  until  all  possible  means  have  been  exhausted  to  save  her, 
does  the  poet  allow  the  passion  for  revenge  to  sweep  away  all 
human  sentiments  in  Kriemhild's  heart.  The  second  act 
deals  with  the  events  on  the  journey  of  the  Burgundians  to 
Etzel's  court,  whither  Kriemhild  has  invited  them.  The  act 
is  divided  into  two  scenes,  one  at  the  banks  of  the  Danube, 
the  other  in  the  home  of  Rudeger.  Giselher  is  there  be- 
trothed to  Riideger's  daughter,  as  in  the  source.  The  whole 
act  is  kept  in  touch  with  the  approaching  catastrophe  by  the 
suspicious  conduct  of  Kriemhild's  messengers,  and  also  by  a 
direct  warning  from  Dietrich  of  Bern,  who  appears  at 
Riideger's  house  to  warn  the  Burgundians  of  their  impend- 
ing danger. 

Dietrich  is  one  of  the  two  main  characters  that  Hebbel 
found  necessary  to  bring  out  in  stronger  relief  than  was 
done  in  the  source.  The  other  is  Etzel.  Hebbel  makes 
Dietrich  the  chief  representative  of  Christianity  among  the 
great  heroes  of  his  tragedy.  The  Nibelungenlied  says  there 
were  many  Christians  at  Etzel's  court.     Hebbel  needed  a 


220         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

concrete  character  for  his  purpose  of  showing  the  period  of 
transition.  It  is,  therefore,  Dietrich  who  remains  at  last 
to  receive  the  scepter  that  falls  from  Etzel's  hands,  and  who 
has  the  courage  to  look  into  the  future  with  a  living  faith. 
Hebbel  characterizes  him  in  this  sense  throughout  the  third 
part.  He  is  one  of  the  three  great  men  who  are  free  to  act 
as  seems  best  to  them,  since  they  are  mightier  than  all  others. 
And  Etzel,  himself  one  of  them,  admits  that  Dietrich 
is  the  greatest  of  them  all.  Following  out  the  teaching  of 
his  new  religion  Dietrich  voluntarily  enters  Etzel's  service; 
no  one,  not  even  Etzel,  knows  why.  And  in  the  interest  of 
peace  he  comes  to  warn  the  Burgundians.  In  all  that  fol- 
lows his  influence  is  thrown  in  the  same  direction. 

Etzel  likewise  is  given  more  prominence  at  the  end. 
Etzel  is  in  a  difficult  position.  His  wife  demands  vengeance 
upon  the  guests  whom  he  has  received  in  good  faith.  Not 
until  the  Burgundians  are  in  his  trust  does  he  realize  the  full 
wrong  done  his  wife  by  Hagen  and  Gunther  and  the  signifi- 
cance of  her  invitation.  He  promises  her  full  satisfaction, 
but  as  long  as  the  Burgundians  are  under  his  roof  he  will 
protect  them  even  at  the  risk  of  his  life.  This,  however,  does 
not  satisfy  Kriemhild,  whom  Hagen  has  enraged  by  renewed 
insults.  She  does  not  want  him  slain  in  open  battle,  she 
wants  murder  for  murder.  The  Huns,  induced  by  her 
promise  of  the  Nibelungen  hoard,  begin  the  attack  without 
Etzel's  knowledge.  Hagen  retaliates  by  killing  the  King's 
child,  and  after  these  violent  deeds  the  grand  catastrophe 
can  no  longer  be  averted.  Hebbel  here  throws  another  light 
on  Etzel's  character.  Kriemhild  had  expected  full  and 
speedy  revenge  from  what  she  knew  of  his  fierce  and  im- 
placable nature.  She  finds  him  different,  however.  He  is 
surprisingly  mild  and  gentle.  This  change  had  been 
wrought  in  him  by  a  vision  he  saw  when  about  to  destroy 
Rome.  Hebbel  makes  use  of  this  legend  in  order  to  repre- 
sent the  pervasive  influence  of  Christianity,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  explain  Etzel's  misunderstanding  of  the  situation 
among  the  Burgundians.  He  knew  that  they  were  Christians 
and  supposed  that  Kriemhild  had  forgiven  the  wrong  done 
her,  as  that  was  "the  custom  among  the  Christians."     This 


The  Nibelungen  and  Demetrius  221 

temporary  conversion  makes  his  savage  fury  at  the  end  all 
the  more  impressive. 

As  the  monstrous  catastrophe  approaches,  each  of  the 
main  characters  stands  out  in  vivid  outline.  The  bitter 
argument  between  Kriemhild  and  the  defiant  Hagen  reveals 
the  clear  consciousness  with  which  they  occupy  their  respec- 
tive positions.  Hagen's  course  is  made  at  least  compre- 
hensible and  Kriemhild  reaffirms  the  necessity  of  her  action. 
It  is  in  accord  with  Hebbel's  plan  to  let  the  passions  of  the 
human  heart  flare  up  to  their  intensest  heat,  for  only  in  this 
way  can  their  consuming  and  destructive  force  be  measured. 
In  this  moment  the  old  Germanic  world  is  on  trial.  Its 
ideals  are  given  their  fullest  scope,  the  results  are  most 
comprehensively  drawn.  Whatever  great  and  noble  qualities 
this  world  may  have  developed,  it  now  faces  a  situation 
where  it  is  destroyed  by  its  own  contradictions.  Dietrich 
sees  this  clearly  before  it  comes.  Hence  his  voluntary  resig- 
nation of  that  power  dearest  to  the  Germanic  heart,  hence 
his  consistent  effort  to  pacify  the  warring  elements,  hence, 
too,  his  final  insight  into  the  necessity  of  the  conflict.  Hate 
must  work  its  own  destruction  before  a  better  condition  can 
be  established.  "Wrong  is  here  so  interwoven  with  wrong 
that  you  cannot  say  to  one:  Stand  back!  Both  have  equal 
rights.  If  revenge  does  not  turn  shuddering  from  the  last 
crumb  no  one  can  satisfy  its  terrible  hunger." 

And  this  is  what  happens.  Of  the  Burgundians  only 
Gunther  and  Hagen  remain,  of  Etzel's  men  none  but  Dietrich 
and  Hildebrant.  Kriemhild  puts  an  end  to  Gunther  and 
Hagen,  the  latter  with  her  own  hands,  and  Hildebrant,  who 
cannot  bear  to  see  the  bravest  of  heroes  beheaded  by  a  woman, 
in  a  burst  of  fury  avenges  Hagen's  death  upon  the  Queen. 
Etzel  should  demand  vengeance  for  this  but  he  is  weary  of 
bloodshed.  He  gives  over  his  scepter  into  Dietrich's  hands 
with  the  words:  "Drag  the  world  further  on  your  back." 
And  Dietrich  assumes  this  office  "in  the  name  of  him  who 
died  on  the  cross."  The  transition  is  now  complete.  Hagen 
opens  the  trilogy  with  a  demand  in  the  Germanic  spirit,  Diet- 
rich closes  it  with  an  obligation  in  the  Christian  spirit.     The 


The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

second  part  ends  with  a  plea  for  sacrifice  instead  of  mercy, 
the  third  with  the  choice  of  mercy  instead  of  sacrifice. 

Hebbel's  trilogy  does  not,  like  Wagner's  Nibelungen 
Ring,  bring  out  the  destructive  influence  of  the  greed  for 
gold  as  symbolized  in  the  treasure  of  the  Nibelungs.  He 
merely  hints  at  some  such  subtle  influence,  or  curse,  in  a 
beautiful  speech  of  Volker.  But  it  is  not  made  a  central 
motive.  It  is  usual  for  those  who  admire  Wagner  to  dis- 
parage Hebbel.  Yet  a  choice  between  the  two  is  not  only 
unnecessary,  a  comparison  even  is  almost  superfluous.  The 
two  works  have  entirely  different  purposes.  The  Ring  give* 
us  a  tragedy  of  the  gods,  it  is  the  Gotterdammerung.  Tlfc 
freedom  with  which  Wagner  handled  his  sources,  the  variery 
and  originality  of  new  combinations  that  he  made,  were  Jie 
very  opposite  of  the  method  that  Hebbel  chose  in  his  role 
of  interpreter.  It  is  unfair,  however,  to  infer  from  this  that 
Hebbel  was  a  mere  copyist,  as  was  done  by  Wagner  and  his 
followers. 

Personal  as  well  as  other  considerations  naturally  kept 
Hebbel  and  Wagner  apart.  They  seem  to  have  met  only 
once,  and  on  that  occasion  pleasantly  enough.  Each  was 
too  dominating  a  personality,  however,  to  endure  the  pres- 
ence of  the  other  for  any  length  of  time.  Hebbel,  upon 
whose  musical  discrimination  widely  divergent  estimates  have 
been  placed,  valued  chiefly  among  Wagner's  works  The  Fly- 
ing Dutchman,  Tannhauser,  and  Lohengrin.  His  favorite 
composer  was  Mozart.  He  did  not  understand  Wagner's 
later  music,  and  as  dramatist  he  naturally  was  not  inclined 
to  accept  Wagner's  theory  demanding  the  fusion  of  music 
and  poetry  as  elements  in  a  higher  unity.  In  his  opinion 
each  of  these  arts  was  sufficient  unto  itself,  though  each  had 
a  separate  and  distinct  sphere.  Poetry,  he  held,  was  the 
language  of  the  spirit  (Geist),  music  that  of  the  heart. 
The  definite  analysis  of  character  and  motive  possible  in 
poetry  was  impossible  in  music,  while  on  the  other  hand  the 
emotional  powers  of  music  far  surpassed  anything  poetry 
might,  hope  to  attain.  Hebbel,  it  is  true,  had  also  reflected 
to  some  extent  on  the  combination  of  the  two  arts.  When 
Schumann  undertook  to  make  an  opera  of  his  Genoveva,  he 


deprecated 


The  Nibelungen  and  Demetrius  223 


leprecated  the  attempt  because  the  drama  in  itself  was 
already  a  complete  expression,  without  the  aid  of  music. 
We  know  too  that  he  desired  to  have  music  complete  the 
expression  of  his  intentions  in  Moloch,  which  he  had  left  less 
complete  for  that  very  purpose.  In  this  respect  we  see 
something  like  an  approach  to  Wagner's  conception,  though 
Hebbel  evidently  lacked  the  musical  imagination  to  carry  his 
idea  further. 

Unfortunately  the  two  men  were  brought  into  conflict 
by  their  work  on  the  same  material,  the  Nibelungen  saga. 
When  Hebbel's  Nibelungen  appeared  (1860),  Wagner,  who 
had  privately  printed  a  few  copies  of  his  Ring  in  1853,  pub- 
lished that  work  with  a  preface  in  which  he  acused  his  rivals 
(meaning  Hebbel  among  others)  of  attempting  to  forestall 
him.  In  February  of  1863  Hebbel  then,  strangely  enough, 
wrote  for  Strodtmann's  Orion  (Hamburg)  an  anonymous 
review  of  the  Wagner  concerts  being  given  at  the  Theater 
an  der  Wien,  venting  his  sarcasm  particularly  on  the  Ride 
of  the  Valkyries.  This  review  was  not  only  unfair,  it  grew 
bitter  toward  the  end.  Hebbel,  who  had  no  calling  as 
musical  critic,  appealed  to  the  taste  of  an  "unprejudiced 
public"  to  condemn  Wagner's  "chaos  of  tones,"  forgetting 
what  he  had  on  other  occasions  said  of  this  same  "un- 
prejudiced public."  After  Hebbel's  death,  Wagner,  in  a 
pamphlet  entitled  On  Actors  and  Singers  (1872),  attacked 
Hebbel's  Nibelungen  as  an  unoriginal  imitation  of  the 
middle  high  German  epic.  He  had  discovered  who  wrote 
the  anonymous  review.  His  opinion  of  Hebbel's  work  was 
generally  subscribed  to  by  his  large  following,  and  it  added 
another  factor  to  the  many  that  already  restricted  the  poet's 
influence.  ^ 

The  Nibelungen  finished,  Hebbel's  last  complete  drama 
was  done.  Time  was  not  granted  him  to  conclude  a  work, 
which  even  in  its  fragmentary  condition  is  among  his  great- 
est. Demetrius  was  actually  begun  in  1858,  though  twenty 
years  before  that  Hebbel  had  hinted  at  the  dramatic  idea — 
that  of  a  false  prince  in  doubt  as  to  his  real  status.  The 
historical  story  of  the  famous  "false  Demetrius,"  who  claimed 
to   be   the  son   of  Ivan   the  Terrible   and   who   reigned   in 


224         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

Moscow  during  1605-1606,  proved  to  he  the  material  he 
needed. 

Schiller  had  died  while  at  work  on  this  subject,  and  Heb- 
bel was  destined  to  be  overtaken  by  the  same  fate.  Upon 
his  death  in  1863  he  left  four  acts  and  the  beginnings  of  a 
fifth.  Besides  this  there  is  a  prologue  giving  a  complete 
exposition  of  the  situation.  Hebbel,  who  at  first  seems  to 
have  thought  of  completing  Schiller's  fragment,  soon  found 
that  his  own  ideas  conflicted  with  such  a  plan.  The  funda- 
mental idea,  however,  that  Demetrius  really  believes  himself 
to  be  the  rightful  claimant  to  the  throne  of  the  czars,  he 
took  over  from  his  predecessor.  Schiller's  Demetrius  is,  in 
the  beginning,  a  frank  and  generous  youth.  He  is  suddenly 
convinced  that  he  is  the  real  son  of  Ivan  and  that  the  ruling 
czar,  Boris  Gudonov,  is  a  usurper  who  attempted  to  murder 
him,  the  rightful  heir,  as  a  child.  Strong  in  this  belief  in  a 
just  cause  he  wins  over  the  nobles  to  his  side,  and,  especially, 
he  induces  the  old  czarina  to  acknowledge  him  as  her  son. 
She  does  this  less  from  conviction  than  from  a  desire  to  be 
revenged  on  Boris  for  the  horrors  she  has  suffered  at  his 
hands.  Boris  is  defeated  and  takes  his  own  life,  leaving 
Demetrius  to  reign  in  his  stead.  This  is  the  height  of 
Demetrius'  power.  He  now  discovers  that  he  has  been  de- 
ceived and  that  he  is  not  Ivan's  son  at  all.  By  killing  the 
only  man  that  knows  this  secret  he  keeps  the  truth  in  his 
sole  possession,  and  according  to  Schiller's  plans — not  quite 
two  acts  were  finished — the  tragic  change  in  him  begins.  It 
begins  with  an  unwilling  deed  of  violence  and  grows  in  the 
same  direction  until  Demetrius  is  a  different  man.  Before, 
he  had  been  generous  and  kind  in  the  full  confidence  of  a  just 
cause,  now  he  becomes  suspicious  of  his  advisers  and 
tyrannical  in  his  measures.  His  inner  uncertainty  transmits 
itself  to  his  surroundings,  his  despotism  makes  him  un- 
popular, his  enemies  are  ready  to  use  the  whispered  doubt 
of  his  birth-right  against  him,  at  the  critical  moment  the 
old  czarina,  fully  convinced  that  he  is  not  her  son,  fails  to 
support  him,  and  he  is  overthrown.  This  was  a  clear  and 
striking  tragic  idea. 

Hebbel  follows  Schiller  in  making  Demetrius  believe  in 


The  Nibelungen  and  Demetrius  %%5 

himself,  though  he  is  more  careful  to  set  forth  the  reasons 
of  that  faith.  He  thinks  Schiller  presupposes  too  much 
and  is  not  enough  concerned  with  explaining  his  persons  and 
occurrences.  This  explanation  he  gives  us  in  the  prologue." 
As  a  result  his  Demetrius  is  probably  a  more  convincing 
character  than  Schiller's,  a  stronger,  more  imperious  person. 
He  is  really  the  son  of  Ivan,  though  his  mother  was  a 
servant  girl.  This  explains  his  resemblance  to  the  czar — 
accidental  in  Schiller — and  also  gives  him  his  natural  inclina- 
tion to  rule.  Between  his  spirit  and  bearing,  naturally 
those  of  a  king,  and  his  position  in  the  house  of  a  Polish 
nobleman,  there  is  a  sharp  contrast.  In  this  situation  Heb- 
bel  is  said  to  have  portrayed  the  conflicts  of  his  own  youth. 
Demetrius'  natural  manner  offends  both  high  and  low.  He 
has  never  known  what  it  means  to  fit  simply  into  a  given 
place  in  life.  The  discovery  that  he  is  Ivan's  son,  legitimate 
as  he  thinks,  corresponds  exactly  to  his  innermost  feelings, 
and  he  accepts  the  new  situation  as  an  inheritance  too  long 
withheld. 

This  attitude  on  his  part  is  the  condition  of  the  tragedy, 
as  Hebbel  conceives  it.  For  if  the  belief  that  he  is  the  czar 
means  life  for  Demetrius,  the  discovery  that  he  is  not  will 
mean  his  death.  This  is  Hebbel's  dramatic  theme,  and  it 
differs  from  Schiller's  to  the  extent  that  his  Demetrius  is  a 
more  decided  person  than  Schiller's.  Schiller's  hero  resolves 
from  purely  inner  motives  to  continue  the  deception,  while 
Hebbel's  hero  realizes  from  purely  inner  motives  that  he 
cannot.  Not  the  course  of  events  but  his  own  character,  is 
what  forces  him  to  stand  confessed.  He  knows  from  the 
beginning  what  Schiller's  Demetrius  learns  at  the  end — the 
hopelessness  of  trying  to  appear  what  he  is  not. 

Hebbel  carefully  prepares  us  for  this  somewhat  idealistic 
solution.  In  many  ways  in  the  course  of  his  drama  the 
sacredness  of  the  principle  of  succession  among  the  Russians 
is  emphasized  as  the  only  security  of  the  state.  Power,  talent 
for  leadership  could  not  in  themselves  constitute  the  right, 
because  in  that  event  the  country  would  be  forever  exposed 
to  the  ambition  of  some  new  adventurer.  Demetrius  accepts 
this  principle  absolutely.     Not  only  does  it  give  him  strength 


226         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

and  justification  in  his  battles,  it  imposes  these  battles  on 
him  as  a  duty.  He  respects  his  opponent,  Boris,  but  finds 
even  in  a  wise  government  no  excuse  for  usurpation.  The 
reality  of  his  claim  is  the  only  source  of  his  power,  and  the 
loss  of  his  power  necessarily  follows  his  discovery  that  the 
claim  is  false.  He  finds  himself  in  the  same  position  as  the 
man  whom  he  has  displaced.  This  lames  his  hand  in  the 
decisive  moment.  One  of  the  chief  nobles  is  caught  plotting 
against  him.  A  word  from  him  and  the  beheading  of  this 
ringleader  would  settle  all  controversy.  But  what  would 
have  seemed  simple  justice  to  him  before  the  fatal  discovery, 
now  becomes  a  murder  in  his  sight.  He  therefore  pardons 
Shuisky,  who  afterwards  really  displaces  him.  With  him 
the  crisis  is  sudden  and  fatal  in  proportion  to  the  purity  and 
energy  of  his  character,  to  the  singleness  of  his  purpose. 
As  the  fragment  stands  the  catastrophe  must  have  been  very 
swift,  for  only  one  act  is  left  in  which  Shuisky  can  work  out 
the  actual  rebellion.  All  this,  with  the  death  of  Demetrius, 
had  to  be  provided  for  in  that  brief  compass.  Hebbel's 
exact  intentions  regarding  the  ending  of  his  drama  were 
never  expressed,  but  it  would  seem  certain  that  the  hero  was 
to  be  murdered  at  the  mom'  .t  of  his  highest  moral  triumph* 
the  only  solution  in  harmony  v.  th  his  portrayal  throughout 
the  work. 

llebbo]  has  been  often  blamed  for  the  final  resignation  of 
his  Demetrius,  as  if  that  stamped  him  a  sentimental  weakling. 
That  i?  to  misunderstand  the  fine  moral  quality  of  the  char- 
acter. Demetrius  is  no  wordy  hero,  indulging  in  a  vague, 
rhetorical  idealism.  He  is  a  human  being  with  a  passion  for 
justice  and  truth,  unfortunately  rare,  but  none  the  less  human. 
He  is  unwilling  to  make  any  compromise  with  the  devious  ways 
by  which  his  supporters  would  further  his  cause.  But  it  is 
the  consciousness  of  his  position  and  proper  power  that  give 
him  strength  to  rebuke  them.  He  lacks  every  quality  of  the 
usurper.  Whether,  as  rightful  ruler,  he  would  have  been 
able  to  assert  himself  permanently  by  his  straightforward 
methods,  is  another  question,  and  a  possible  tragedy  that 
Hebbel  did  not  write. 

The  work,  while  unfinished  and  unfiled,  shows  a  master's 


The  Nibelungen  and  Demetrius  227 

hand  throughout.  Hebbel  had  now  fully  attained  his  real 
style.  His  language  is  thoroughly  sensuous,  if  somewhat 
compact  and  serious.  He  had  made  a  careful  study  of  local 
conditions,  traveling  to  Cracow  for  first  hand  impressions. 
His  characters  all  have  a  local  habitation  and  name.  As  a 
background  we  find  the  idea  of  the  state,  and  also  religious 
intrigues  on  the  part  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  which 
rescued  Demetrius  in  order  to  use  him  for  its  purposes.  In 
the  characters  Hebbel  did  some  of  his  best  work.  In  Marina 
he  attempted  something  new  to  him,  the  naive  and  capricious 
woman.  While  notably  successful  in  this,  his  characteriza- 
tion of  the  omnipresent,  officious,  and  evil  Otrepiep  must  be 
considered  a  masterpiece  of  first  order.  Equally  good  is  the 
old  mother  of  Demetrius,  in  her  timidity,  her  resignation, 
her  overflowing  love,  which  betrays  itself  in  spite  of  her. 
Particularly  noticeable  is  the  ease  and  clearness  with  which 
the  rich  material  is  organized.  The  complex  racial  elements 
of  the  empire,  the  pleasure-loving  Poles,  the  faithful 
Russians,  the  unruly  Cossacks,  are  made  to  pass  before  us 
in  different  parts  of  the  picture.  The  populace  in  Moscow 
is  presented  in  well  chosen  types  as  Demetrius  enters  the 
city  on  his  triumphal  march.  On  the  whole  we  have  the  im- 
pression of  a  thoroughly  ordered  and  individual  work  of  art. 


\M 


CHAPTER  XV 

THEORY    AND     PRACTICE.       STYLE.       HEBBEL    AND     THE     STAGE 

AFTER  having  examined  Hebbel's  most  important  theoret- 
-  ical  views,  and  presented,  at  least  in  outline,  the  indi- 
vidual products  of  his  genius,  it  is  desirable  to  sum  up  in  a 
general  way  the  characteristic  facts  of  his  tragic  interpreta- 

t  tion  of  life.  Do  his  dramas  exemplify  his  theory?  If  not, 
what  do  they  exemplify?  What  is  his  relation  to  the  Greeks, 
to  Shakespeare,  and  to  the  modern  drama? 

It  is  customary  now  to  accept  the  evolutionary  view  of 

t   Hebbel's  dramatic  theory,  to  assume  that  he  wished  to  show 

|  the  life-process  as  a  steady  development  from  lower  to  higher 
in  human  history,  that  he  therefore  placed  his  tragedies  at 

|  some  crisis  or  turning-point  in  history,  and  that  the  indi- 
vidual, anticipating  the  future  order,  is  sacrificed  to  the 
existing  one.  It  is  not  certain,  however,  just  what  kind  of 
evolution  Hebbel  believed  in.  He  did  recognize  a  continua- 
tion of  the  life-process,  he  regarded  the  "act  of  creation"  as 
unfinished.  But  more  than  onjce,  and  up  to  the  last,  he  hesi- 
tated to  define  the  direction  of  this  "act  of  creation."  With 
this  limitation,  we  may  accept*  the  evolutionary  view  of  his 
theory,  as  justified  in  his  Preface  to  Mary  Magdalene  and 
elsewhere,  and  also  as  applicable*  to  certain  of  his  tragedies. 
a,  .  The  method,  however,  is  nqj;'  tKat  of  showing  the  individual 

I  as  the  martyr  to  a  new  truth,  so  much  as  showing  the  old 
order  breaking  down  because  of  its  inherent  contradictions. 
Before   enquiring  which    of   the   dramas    illustrate    this 
standpoint,    we'-  may     recall     three    other,     more     general 
principles  uncterjying  all  Hebbel's  theorizing  and  illustrated 

I  in  all  his  ; tragedies.  Jlirst,  as  the  basis  of  all  tragedy, 
is  set  the*  critical  relation  between  individual  and  society. 
of  which  he  is  the  product.  Further,  the  tragic  individual 
rmis/t  be  presented  in  his  growth  in  the  conflict  resulting 


Theory  and  Practice  229 

from  the  critical  relation.  And  finally,  the  mere  exertion  of 
individual  will,  and  not  its  direction  (for  "good"  or  "bad") 
occasions  the  tragic  conflict.  Hebbel  never  modified  these 
opinions  about  the  tragedy. 

The  evolutionary  standpoint  depends,  as  we  have  seen, 
upon  the  conflict  within  the  Idea,  or,  to  be  concrete,  within 
the  social  order  in  question.  Logically  it  can  exist  only 
when  the  social  order  breaks  down  because  of  its  inner 
instability.  It  is  the  dissolution  of  the  social  complex.  It 
would  not  exist  when  the  individual  is  shattered,  even  in 
an  excellent  or  reasonable  undertaking,  against  the  wall  of 
impregnable  tradition.  The  latter  case  would  give  us  the 
tragedy  of  the  "critical  relation"  in  its  pure  form.  Of  these 
two  types  the  former  is  progressive,  the  latter  conservative. 
Together  they  illustrate  the  peculiar  two-faced  standpoint 
occupied  by  Hebbel  as  a  practical  necessity  of  life.  The 
expression  here  used  is  not  meant  to  convey  a  reproach.  A 
really  evolutionary  point  of  view  must  embrace  the  two 
others.  Hebbel's  letters  to  Gustav  Kuhne  (1847)  show  him 
as  the  progressive,  who  finds  the  trouble  with  the  world  to 
be  a  conflict  between  "unjustifiable  laws  and  freer  developing 
personalities."  Ten  years  later  he  writes  to  Baron  Cotta: 
"Perhaps  more  than  any  one  else  I  have  battled  for  the  basic 
foundations  of  human  society,  which  in  our  .times  are 
threatened  on  all  sides."  It  is  true  he  was  older,  and  he 
had  seen  a  revolution  in  the  meantime,  but  he  even  classes 
his  early  productions  under  the  same  heading.  Of  the 
second  period  he  declares :  "Herod  celebrates  Christianity 
as  a  most  sublime  instrument  of  civilization,1  Michelangelo 
preaches  humility,  Agnes  Bernauer  presents  the  state  as  the 
basis  of  all  human  prosperity,  Gyges  reminds  us  of  the 
eternal  rights  of  custom  (Sitte)  and  tradition.  These  pieces 
have  their  great  faults  but  the  general  spirit  to  which  they 
owe  their  being  is  not  to  be  despised  in  a  time  that  would  up- 
set everything  and  make  the  world  over."2  In  reality  these 
two  statements  are  not  contradictory,  though  Hebbel  himself 
ma}'  have  been  in  very  different  moods  when  he  wrote  them. 

1  This  sentence  is  worded  with  noteworthy  care. 

2  Br.  VI,  75. 


230         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

They  are  both  comprehended  within  the  attitude  which 
values  fundamental  social  forms  evolved  through  long  experi- 
ence, while  at  the  same  time  it  does  not  accept  their  ossifi- 
cation. Just  as  Hebbel,  in  1848,  desired  concessions  by 
both  sides,  so  in  his  tragedies  he  teaches  the  sanctity  of  tradi- 
tion on  the  one  hand  and  its  dangers  on  the  other.  And 
while,  broadly  speaking,  it  is  true  that  he  began  more  as  a 
radical  and  ended  more  as  a  conservative,  he  was  never  an  ex- 
tremist either  way.  In  this  respect  his  works  reflect  his 
nature  faithfully. 

If  we  wish  to  classify  Hebbel's  works  according  to  the 
division  just  made  we  see  that  neither  Judith  nor  Genoveva 
represents  the  evolutionary  type.  Judith  is  sacrificed  as 
the  savior  of  a  particular  society,  Holofernes  is  sacrificed 
as  its  enemy.  Golo  is  wrecked  on  the  reefs  of  passion,  in 
conflict  with  the  imperturbable  spirit  of  Christian  humility. 
Siegfried  is  ruined  by  his  own  blindness  to  a  spiritual  value 
of  life.  Mary  Magdalene,  however,  is  evolutionary,  to  the 
extent  that  it  shows  the  old  order  bankrupt.  With  that  it 
ends.  For  awhile  it  seemed  as  if  Hebbel  would  continue 
the  criticism  of  contemporary  society.  Julia  is  decidedly  of 
this  type.  Here  he  came  nearest  to  discussing  a  restricted 
problem.  But  becoming  alarmed  at  the  narrowness  and 
particularity  of  his  work,  he  resolved  henceforth  to  assail  no 
problem  unrelieved  by  the  freedom  and  expanse  of  an 
historical  horizon. 

The  first  drama  written  from  this  larger  point  of  view 
was  Herod  and  Mariamne,  which  belongs  to  the  evolutionary 
type.  Here  the  new  order  is  somewhat  more  clearly  indi- 
cated than  in  Mary  Magdalene,  but  after  all  the  most  strik- 
ing thing  in  the  tragedy  is  the  collapse  of  the  old.  There 
are  three  tragic  characters  in  the  drama,  and  all  three  meet 
ruin  at  the  hands  of  the  old  order  of  revenge  and  hate.: 
Herod  by  adopting  its  principles,  Mariamne  and  Soemus  6y 
opposing  them,  at  least  in  part.  Herod,  though  he  lives  on, 
is  the  most  tragic  of  them  all.  His  good  qualities  have  been 
perverted.  His  intelligence  has  become  cunning,  his  fidelity 
has  yielded  to  suspicion,  his  courage  and  resolution  only 
render  his  despotism  more  frightful.     He  stands  before  us 


Theory  and  Practice  £31 

at  last  like  a  man  dazed,  half  conscious  of  what  has  happened 
to  him,  yet  driven  by  despair  to  keep  on  the  same  fatal 
course.  Mariamne  turns  shuddering  from  a  world  that  is 
without  a  soul.  The  time  represented  in  this  drama  is  really 
a  period  of  transition,  and  in  that  sense  it  represents  an 
actual  historical  phase  of  human  history.  Hebbel  consid- 
ered it,  however,  none  the  less  a  social  drama,  and  a  warning 
to  his  own  times  in  that  it  taught  respect  for  individuality. 

In  Agnes  Bernauer  and  Gyges,  on  the  other  hand,  Hebbel, 
reacting  to  some  extent  against  the  excesses  of  the  revolu- 
tion, made  use  of  the  conservative  possibilities  of  his  theory. 
He  estimated  these  works  truly,  according  to  their  main  im- 
pression, in  his  letter  to  Cotta:  "Agnes  Bernauer  presents 
the  state  as  the  basic  element  of  all  human  prosperity,  and 
Gyges  reminds  us  of  the  eternal  rights  of  custom  and  tradi- 
tion." Both  in  Agnes  and  Albrecht  we  have  the  tragedy  of 
the  critical  relation  between  individual  and  society  in  its  pure 
form.  In  Agnes  Hebbel  wished  to  represent  the  tragedy  of 
beauty,  and  in'Albrecnt  that  of  a  future  ruler  who  has  not 
yet  learned  the  resignation^  his  individual  happiness  to  the 
good  of  his  subjects^  Though  victorious  in  battle  he  is 
converted  to  the  standpoint  of  his  father — not  to  ask  what 
a  thing  is  but  what  it  means.  *The  tragedy  does  not  close 
with  the  messengers  of  a  new  order'  but  with  the  legate  of 
the  Pope  and  the  emblems  of  the~Holy  Roman  Empire.  For 
the  poet  again,  however,  it  symbolized  a  new  order,  an  order 
in  which  the  individual  should  realize  the  meaning  of  the 
state  and  the  state  be  conscious  of  its  mission  among  men. 
As  Duke  Albrecht  was  plainly  intended  for  the  rebellious 
radicals,  so  was  Duke  Ernst  meant  for  the  reactionary  des- 
pots of  his  day.  Gyges  is  an  even  more  striking  example  of 
what,  things  signify  beyond  what  they  are.  What  is  a  veil, 
what  are  old  swords  and  rusty  crowns  ?  Nothing — in  the*i-j 
selves.  But  they  signify  the  love  of  a  woman  and  the  life  )ffl 
a  nation.  Kandaules  perishes  in  his  disregard  of  them  b  iflf 
the  social  order  is  undisturbed.  In  these  two  dramas  jft 
seems  almost  as  if  Hebbel  had  purposely  chosen  the  mast 
extreme  cases  to  embody  his  view  of  life. 

It  is  evident  that  the  Nibelungen  belongs  to  the  evolu- 


232         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

tionary  type,  the  entire  background  being  the  Germanic 
world  as  it  changes  into  a  new  order.  The  individuals,  how- 
ever, in  this  immense  work  can  be  referred  to  both  types. 
Those  who  work  out  their  own  destruction  most  consistently 
by  adhering  to  the  old  order  are  Hagen  and  Kriemhild. 
Siegfried's  tragedy  is  that  of  the  too  favored  individual, 
while  Brunhild's  fate  is  similar  to  that  of  Mariamne  and 
Rhodope.  There  is  no  trace  of  an  evolutionary  idea  in 
Demetrius.  This  fragment  is  in  the  same  class  with  Agnes 
Bernauer  and  Gyges,  in  that  it  illustrates  the  dependence  of 
the  individual  on  society  and  his  responsibility  to  it.  The 
Moloch  fragment,  on  the  other  hand,  clearly  shows  us  a  tran- 
sition period.  Here  the  individual,  Hieram,  fails  to  compre- 
hend the  real  meaning  of  the  change.  The  fragment,  there- 
fore, emphasizes  the  reality  of  the  social  will  at  the  same  time 
that  it  shows  the  birth  of  a  new  order. 

We  come  now  to  our  next  question :  In  what  relation  does 
Hebbel  stand  to  the  Greeks  and  Shakespeare?  In  his* Pref- 
ace to  Mary  Magdalene,  as  we  have  seen,  he  attempted  a 
threefold  historical  classification  of  the  drama,  into  Greek, 
Shakespearean,  and  a  third  type,  which  would  be  the  last. 
The  conflict  in  one  is  between  fate  and  the  individual,  in  the 
second  it  is  in  the  individual  himself,  and  in  the  third  it  is  in 
the  moral  order  that  symbolizes  the  Idea.  We  see  why  Heb- 
bel, from  his  adherence  to  the  Idea  in  a  speculative  way  at 
that  time,  was  forced  to  limit  the  possibilities  to  three.  This, 
however,  was  a  formalistic  analysis  that  might  have  led  him 
to  distrust  his  presuppositions.  The  proposition,  for  ex- 
ample, that  Shakespeare  shows  the  conflict  in  the  individual, 
if  it  means  that  no  "divine  antagonist"  is  discernible,  cannot 
be  maintained. 

We  can,  however,  approach  the  question  in  a  more  em- 
pirical way,  and  then  we  indeed  find  in  Hebbel  certain 
qualities  connecting  him  with  the  Greeks  on  one  hand  and 
Shakespeare  on  the  other.  It  is,  of  course,  hazardous  to 
limit  the  effect  of  Greek  tragedy,  or  Shakespearean  tragedy, 
by  this  or  that  term,  and  one  is  refreshed  to  find  De  Quincey 
defending  free  will  in  Greek  tragedy,  or  Volkelt  recording 
the  impression  of  fate  in  Shakespeare.     This  fact  empha- 


Theory  and  Practice 

sizes  the  truth  of  Hebbel's  assertion  that  good  art  always 
includes  the  individual  and  the  universal  at  one  and  the  same 
time.  Art  must  do  this  because  life  does  it  in  some  incom- 
prehensible fashion.  One  phase  of  Greek  tragedy,  however, 
may  certainly  be  expressed  in  the  following  words  of  Pro- 
fessor Butcher.3  "Greek  tragedy  in  its  most  characteristic 
examples,  dramatizes  not  the  mere  story  of  human  calam- 
ities, but  the  play  of  great  principles,  the  struggle  between 
contending  moral  forces.  The  heroes  themselves  are  the 
embodiment  of  these  forces.  Religion,  the  State,  the  Family 
— these  were  to  a  Greek  the  higher  and  enduring  realities, 
the  ideal  ends  for  which  he  lived."  These  words  have  a 
familiar  sound  to  students  of  Hebbel.  They  embody  what 
he  also  demands  of  the  drama.  For  him,  too,  these  great 
moral  forces  must  be  felt  as  supreme  in  the  tragedy.  Re- 
ligion? Who  does  not  recall  Moloch?  The  State?  We 
have  Agnes  Bemauer  and  Demetrius.  The  Family?  There 
is  Mary  Magdalene.  The  characteristic  distinction  is  that 
Hebbel  often  shows  these  great  moral  forces  not  undivided, 
but  as  undergoing  a  change.  Yet  back  of  it  all  he  claims 
to  have  given  his  life  to  establishing  them  on  a  firmer  basis. 
Character  development,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  a  part 
of  Greek  tragedy.  "In  this  sense  we  may  admit  that  the 
modern  drama  has  brought  the  delineation  of  character  into 
a  new  and  stronger  relief."4  In  this  respect,  needless  to 
repeat,  Hebbel  is  firmly  on  modern  ground  both  in  theory 
and  practice.  To  combine  character  development  with  the 
impression  of  great  moral  forces  in  conflict  was  his  supreme 
end.  That  is  why  he  wants  Shakespearean  vividness  in  the 
main  scenes  and  Sophoclean  composition  in  the  whole  work. 
Does  he  attain  this?  On  no  question  regarding  Hebbel  is 
opinion  more  divided.  It  is  not  sufficient  that  we  see  indi- 
viduals in  a  psychological  conflict,  and  also  see  a  certain 
background  of  conflicting  general  forces.  The  two  conflicts 
must  be  so  interwoven  as  to  make  a  unified  impression.    Each 


8  Aristotle's  Theory  of  Poetry  and  Fine  Art,  Macmillan,  Fourth  edi- 
tion, p.  360. 

*  Butcher,  op.  cit.  p.  365. 


The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

must  continually  act  upon  and  condition  the  other.  Before 
the  publication  of  his  Preface,  Hebbel  complained  that 
his  persons  were  taken  too  strictly  as  individuals.  Later  he 
never  ceased  complaining  of  the  opposite.  His  plays  were 
supposed  to  "represent"  all  kinds  of  things  that  he  never 
dreamed  of.  He  insisted  that  he  took  his  method  of  work 
only  from  the  particular  subject  in  hand,  and  not  from  any 
theory.  On  the  whole  he  was  right  in  this  assertion.  The 
actual  result  is,  as  we  have  said,  varyingly  estimated.  Otto 
Ludwig,  for  example,  considered  Hebbel's  problems  Jcultur- 
historisch  rather  than  psychological.  The  fate  of  his 
persons  was  rather  the  product  of  their  times  than  of  their 
':  own  action.  His  tragedies  presented  views  rather  than 
persons.  The  opposite  view  is  held  by  many.  Volkelt 
among  others  sees  in  the  characters  only  individuals  and 
abnormal  individuals  at  that.  That  is,  they  would  repre- 
sent nothing  except  themselves,  or  their  author,  not  even  an 
instance  of  human  destiny,  to  say  nothing  of  a  phase  of 
human  history  at  the  same  time. 

The  word  "representative,"  when  applied  to  characters, 
might  mean  several  things.  Judith,  for  example,  might 
represent  woman  degraded  in  her  most  sacred  feelings,  she 
might  represent  a  Jewish  woman  of  a  certain  period,  and  she 
might  symbolize  the  conflict  between  Judaism  and  heathen* 
ism.  If  she  should  represent  all  three  she  would  do  what 
Hebbel  claimed  for  her.  That  she  does  not  do  the  last  seems 
evident,  and  Vischer,  for  example,  believed  it  to  be  her  chief 
fault  that  she  did  not  do  the  second.  The  coincidence  of  all 
these  circles  was  what  Hebbel  strove  for  more  and  more,  and 
by  that  his  progress  should  be  judged.  Herod  comes  much 
nearer  the  threefold  capacity  of  man  becoming  tyrant,  of  a 
citizen  of  the  world  at  the  birth  of  Christ,  and  of  a  victim  of 
a  passing  order  symbolized  in  his  own  soul.  The  representa- 
tive nature  of  this  drama  may  be  well  seen  by  contrasting  it 
with  the  more  personal  treatment  of  the  same  theme  by 
Stephen  Phillips.  It  would  be  useless  to  register  a  personal 
opinion  on  each  of  the  dramas  in  this  regard.  A  detailed 
discussion  would  be  necessary  in  order  to  draw  any  safe 
conclusions. 


Theory  and  Practice  235 

Hebbel's  relation  to  Shakespeare  is  no  less  interesting. 
Practically  he  preserved  his  independence  of  Shakespeare. 
Shakespeare,  he  said,  was  in  every  way  a  privileged  exception, 
to  be  carefully  studied  but  never  imitated.  Whatever  short- 
comings he  had  in  one  direction  were  more  than  balanced  in 
another.  Among  these  shortcomings  Hebbel  placed  first  the 
superabundant  wealth  of  detail.  This,  he  thought,  en- 
dangered the  composition  as  a  whole.  We  have  already 
noticed  his  preference  for  the  Greek  type  in  this  respect. 
But  perhaps  after  all  the  real  point  at  issue  was  contained 
in  Hebbel's  assertion,  which  was  quite  in  keeping  with  the 
esthetic  of  his  day,  that  Shakespeare  placed  the  conflict  in 
the  individual.  In  so  far  as  this  may  mean  that  Shakespeare 
excluded  what  Hebbel  termed  the  "divine  antagonist,"  it 
must  be  considered  open  to  objection.  A  less  dogmatic  view 
of  life  than  that  held  by  the  absolute  philosophy  puts  a 
different  aspect  on  this  question.  The  "divine  antagonist" 
in  Shakespeare  may  be  less  easy  to  define,  may  show  more 
of  the  elusiveness  and  mystery  of  organic  life,  may  be  less 
rational  than  the  Idea,  or  its  representatives,  and  yet  lose 
none  of  its  reality  and  importance.  This  has  been  ade- 
quately shown  by  Professor  Bradley  in  his  Shakespearean 
Tragedy.5 

Professor  Bradley  finds  in  "the  impression  of  waste"  the 
central  tragic  impression  in  Shakespeare.  Human  tragedy 
becomes  a  sA'mbol  for  the  universal  tragedy  in  life,  it  sum- 
mons up  a  power  beyond  human  power.  The  analysis,  or 
description,  of  this  power  which  Professor  Bradley  gives  us, 
is  especially  satisfactory  and  comprehensive.  It  is  a  dual- 
istic  thing,  he  says,  neither  definable  as  a  "moral  order," 
nor  as  "blind  fate,"  though  combining  in  itself  qualities  of 
each.  "Thus  we  are  left  at  last  with  an  idea  showing  two 
sides  or  aspects  which  we  can  neither  separate  nor  reconcile. 
The  whole  or  order  against  which  the  individual  part  shows 
itself  powerless  seems  to  be  animated  by  a  passion  for 
perfection;  we  cannot  otherwise  explain  its  behaviour 
towards  evil.     Yet  it  appears  to  engender  this  evil  within 


"Macmillan,  Second  edition,  1914.     See  especially  Lecture  I. 


236         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

itself  and  in  its  effort  to  overcome  and  expel  it,  it  is  agonized 
with  pain  and  driven  to  mutilate  its  own  substance  and  to 
lose  not  only  evil  but  priceless  good." 

These  words  would  be  a  satisfactory  statement  of  the 
tragedy  of  Golo.  In  this  type  the  tragic  issue  proceeds 
from  the  bosom  of  the  world  directly,  not  indirectly  through 
the  faults  of  a  social  order.  For  that  reason  it  contains 
more  of  the  inexplicable  mystery  of  life.  The  drama  that 
deals  with  a  particular  social  problem,  the  thesis-drama  in 
the  strict  sense,  represents  the  opposite  extreme.  Hebbel 
wrote  no  drama  of  this  extreme  type.  He  asserted,  however, 
that  all  his  dramas  had  a  social  basis.  Only,  as  a  rule,  he 
employed  tradition  or  history  to  give  them  a  broader  founda- 
tion and  a  more  significant  sweep.  The  problems  are  re- 
ferred, in  other  words,  not  to  a  set  of  conventions,  but  to 
the  whole  of  human  existence.  It  is  still  human  existence 
symbolized,  or  represented  in  certain  great  institutions.  In 
Shakespeare,  on  the  other  hand,  the  individual  faces  a  still 
less  restricted  order,  an  order  as  broad,  as  mysterious,  as 
indefinable  as  the  thing  we  call  life  itself,  yet  none  the  less 
potent  in  determining  its  fate.  From  this  point  of  view  it 
might  be  said  that  Hebbel  created  only  two  characters  who, 
as  a  whole,  put  their  questions  directly  and  squarely  to  the 
Universe :  Holofernes  and  Golo.  All  the  others  are  more  or 
less  socialized.  These  two  are  hence  his  genuine  Shake- 
spearean characters. 

In  many  particular  respects,  however,  Hebbel's  char- 
acters would  accord  with  Shakespeare.  Generally  they  are 
conspicuous  persons  suffering  an  extraordinary  fate.  To 
what  extent  in  his  dramas  "character  is  destiny"  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  entire  previous  discussion.  Of  Shakespeare 
Professor  Bradley  says:  "In  almost  all  (his  characters)  we 
observe  a  certain  onesidedness,  a  predisposition  in  some  par- 
ticular direction ;  a  total  incapacity,  in  certain  circum- 
stances, of  resisting  the  force  which  draws  in  this  direction ; 
a  fatal  tendency  to  identify  the  whole  being  with  one  interest, 
object,  passion  or  habit  of  mind.  This,  it  would  seem,  is  for 
Shakespeare  the  fundamental  tragic  fact."  (Op.  cit.  p. 
20).     These  words  are  entirely  in  accord  with  Hebbel's  first 


Theory  and  Practice  237 

essay,  and  they  also  fit  Holofernes  and  Golo  perfectly,  as 
well  as  all  HebbePs  persons  more  or  less. 

If,  as  Professor  Bradley  asserts,  "the  source  of  the  con- 
vulsion" in  Shakespeare  is  never  good,  but  plain  moral  evil, 
this  is  not  a  part  of  HebbePs  theory.  And  it  could  find  only 
a  restricted  application  in  his  practice.  Hebbel  tended 
more  and  more  to  write  the  tragedy  of  innocence.  Char- 
acters like  Agnes  Bernauer  and  Demetrius  are  led  to  a  tragic 
end  by  their  very  perfection.  In  HebbePs  view,  the 
"critical  relation"  into  which  the  individual  may  come  with 
reference  to  the  whole  is  independent  of  such  considerations. 

An  important  matter  with  regard  to  the  emotional  im- 
pression of  HebbePs  tragedies  is  their  casuistry,  if  that  term 
may  be  used.  That  is,  in  most  of  them  we  are  made  con- 
scious of  a  "problem,"  and  the  poet  is  careful,  too  careful, 
to  convince  us  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  his  solution.  The 
word  necessity  (Notwendigkeit)  was  one  that  he  liked  to  use 
with  reference  to  his  dramas,  and  it  throws  considerable 
light  on  the  degree  of  his  determinism.  A  tragic  action, 
necessary  in  its  completeness,  indissolubly  woven  of  acting 
and  suffering,  of  the  deeds  of  the  protagonist  and  the  will  of 
"divine  antagonist" — such  was  his  desire  for  his  dramas. 
"In  not  a  few  Greek  tragedies  it  is  almost  inevitable  that  we 
should  think  of  justice  and  retribution,  not  only  because  the 
dramatis  persona*  often  speak  of  them,  but  also  because 
there  is  something  casuistical  about  the  tragic  problem 
itself.  The  poet  treats  the  story  in  such  a  way  that  the 
question,  Is  the  hero  doing  right  or  wrong?  is  almost  forced 
upon  us.  But  this  is  not  so  with  Shakespeare.  Julius 
Cadsar  is  probably  the  only  one  of  his  tragedies  in  which  the 
question  suggests  itself  to  us,  and  this  is  one  of  the  reasons 
why  that  play  has  something  of  a  classic  air."6  Here  again 
we  find  a  divergence  of  Hebbel  from  the  Shakespearean  form, 
a  divergence  which  was  no  doubt  a  part  of  his  conscious 
program.  And  in  this  respect,  too,  he  is  closer  to  the 
Greeks  on  one  side  and  Ibsen  on  the  other. 

It  has  long  been  customary  to  name  Hebbel  and  Ibsen 


•  Bradley,  op.  cit.  p.  33. 


238         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

together.  We  know  that  Ibsen  saw  Mary  Magdalene  in 
Dresden  and  was  deeply  impressed  by  it.  He  is  also  said  to 
have  expressed  his  wonder  that  the  Germans  received  his 
dramas  with  enthusiasm,  while  neglecting  their  own  Hebbel. 
It  is  at  once  apparent  that  both  poets  have  in  common  a 
fondness  for  probing  deep  into  the  problems  of  life,  and 
their  strength  lies  in  their  treatment  of  the  psychology  of 
their  characters.  Both  also  show  their  persons  changing 
under  conditions  which  largely  make  them.  The  analytical 
technique  of  the  Greeks,  which  Hebbel  used  to  some  extent 
in  various  dramas,  and  particularly  in  Mary  Magdalene  and 
Julia,  Ibsen  made  a  chief  principle  of  his  composition. 
Both  looked  upon  Christianity  as  a  transitional  form, 
destined  to  undergo  a  synthesis  with  the  Greek  ideal.  Ibsen, 
however,  regarded  social  corruption  as  the  tragic  sin  of  man- 
kind, and  he  was  much  more  radical  in  demanding  changes 
than  Hebbel,  who  occupied  an  evolutionary  standpoint. 
Ibsen  sides  with  his  radical  characters,  and  does  not  sacri- 
fice the  individual  to  the  Idea  or  society  as  such  at  all.  He 
sought  no  metaphysical  background  except  in  one  tragedy, 
Emperor  and  Galilean,  in  which  he  reached  conclusions 
similar  to  Hebbel's  dualism.  He  made  no  attempt,  in  his 
other  dramas,  to  draw  characters  and  action  against  this 
background.  Both  Ibsen  and  Hebbel  place  poetry  above 
religion,  and  neither  sets  up  a  definite  ethical  system. 
Ibsen's  ethical  demand  was :  Be  yourself,  be  true.  He  at 
first  would  admit  no  social  lies,  but  later  demonstrated  the 
need  of  them  in  The  Wild  Duck.  Hebbel,  like  Nietzsche,  never 
doubted  their  necessity.  Ibsen  saw  the  highest  individuality 
in  the  fulfilment  of  duty.  Hebbel  made  respect  for  another's 
individuality  the  center  of  his  teaching.  In  both,  woman  is 
defended  as  an  individual  and  triumphs  as  such.  This 
victory  of  woman,  which  Hebbel  proclaims  clearly  enough,  is 
emphasized  more  and  more  by  Ibsen  and  his  followers.  And 
finally,  to  conclude  this  very  brief  summary,  both  expected 
salvation  from  the  great  individual,  not,  like  Tolstoi,  from 
the  masses. 

After  this  general  estimate  of  the  nature  of  Hebbel's 
drama,  we  may  enquire  briefly  into  his  use  of  language,  his 


Theory  and  Practice  239 

views  on  "realism,"  his  attitude  to  the  stage  and  his  success 
upon  it.  All  the  writers  on  Hebbel's  style,  as  far  as  I  am 
acquainted  with  them,  are  agreed  that  he  was  no  innovator 
in  the  use  of  words.  His  importance  as  a  dramatist  depends 
more  on  the  ideal  aspects  of  his  work,  such  as  the  formula- 
tion of  the  tragic  conflict,  or  psychological  analysis,  than 
on  his  specific  power  of  language.  This  does  not  mean  that 
he  failed  to  attain  an  adequate  individual  expression  for  his 
thought,  but  merely  that  he  was  not  a  language-maker  on  a 
large  scale.  He  introduced  a  number  of  expressions  into 
usage,  some  of  them  from  his  native  low  German  dialect. 
But  his  principle  was  conservative  and  purely  esthetic.  He 
had  no  desire,  like  his  famous  contemporary,  Klaus  Groth, 
to  quicken  the  refined  literary  language  with  racier  expres- 
sions from  the  dialect.  He  employed  low  German  words 
chiefly  when  no  exact  high  German  equivalent  was  available. 
His  vocabulary,  therefore,  is  essentially  that  of  Goethe  and 
Schiller,  with  some  influence  of  Lessing  and  Kleist,  and  an 
occasional  borrowing  from  his  contemporaries.  A  modifica- 
tion of  the  classical  style  in  the  direction  of  realism  is  notice- 
able. If  Goethe  was  more  careful  than  Schiller  to  avoid 
colloquial  language  in  his  verse,  Hebbel  is  in  this  respect 
freer  than  Schiller.  His  prose  dramas,  on  the  other  hand, 
are  less  colloquial  than  the  prose  dramas  of  the  Storm  and 
Stress  period.  Thus  from  both  directions  he  seemed  to 
strive  for  a  golden  mean  proper  to  his  own  talent.  He  did 
not  attempt  to  gain  realism  in  the  manner  of  Kleist,  whose 
dramas  show  a  distinct  separation  between  the  colloquial 
passages  and  those  transfigured  by  impetuous  eloquence  and 
passion,  but  rather  to  develop  an  harmonious  whole,  uniting 
the  vigor  of  everyday  speech  with  the  elegance  of  the  classic 
tradition.  Many  critics  consider  that  this  effort  reduced 
his  entire  style  to  a  point  below  the  highest  poetic  beauty. 
The  total  impression  made  by  Hebbel's  style,  is  that  it  is 
the  product  of  a  mind  characterized  by  logical  incisiveness 
on  the  one  hand  and  passion  and  eloquence  on  the  other. 
The  qualities  of  Lessing  seem  in  him  to  be  transfused  and 
potentialized  by  a  higher  poetic  imagination,  a  more  ele- 
mental emotion.     Antithesis,  so  much  used  in  his  Judith,  re- 


240         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

mained  a  favorite  figure  with  him,  and  even  the  moments  of 
highest  passion  seem  not  to  be  entirely  deserted  by  the  guid- 
ing hand  of  reflection.  His  problem,  as  Deiters  well  puts  it, 
was  to  fuse  three  elements  at  first  existing  more  or  less  side 
by  side  in  his  writings :  rhetorical  sweep,  epigrammatic  pithi- 
ness, and  a  decided  trend  toward  realism.  His  best  works 
mark  a  steady  gain  in  this  power  of  fusion,  the  Nibelungen 
perhaps  showing  the  greatest  mastery  in  introducing 
colloquial  expressions  without  detriment  to  the  poetic  tone 
of  the  language. 

Hebbel's  language  is  very  sensuous.  He  thinks  largely 
in  figures  of  speech,  the  distinguishing  mark  of  the  poetic 
mind.  The  eye  is  the  chief  organ  of  sense  employed  in  this 
process,  sound  playing  a  much  less  important  role.  Also, 
especially  in  the  beginning,  the  figures  drawn  from  nature 
and  animal  life  are  more  or  less  traditional  and  stereotyped, 
and  only  gradually  rise  to  individual  significance.  Those 
taken  from  human  life,  however,  are  from  the  first  more 
numerous  and  more  original.  This  is  a  confirmation  of 
what  Hebbel's  works  reveal  to  us  otherwise,  that  he  awakened 
slowly  to  an  appreciation  of  nature.  His  primary  interest 
was  man.  He  once  put  this  in  his  drastic  fashion :  "I  don't 
live  on  June-bugs,  I  live  on  people."  Equally  interesting 
is  the  discovery  made  by  many  who  have  examined  his  figur- 
ative expressions  closely,  that  there  is  in  them  a  certain 
recurrence,  or  repetition,  which  shows  a  rhythmic  movement 
of  his  mind  in  this  particular.  Or,  put  in  a  different  way, 
the  circle  of  his  sensuous  imagination  is  rather  restricted. 
Every  poet,  of  course,  has  his  own  circle,  great  or  small,  as 
no  imagination  is  unlimited.  But  while  many  strive  continu- 
ally to  enlarge  these  limits,  Hebbel  seemed,  as  Meszleny  says, 
more  concerned  to  attain  perfect  ease  and  precision  within 
them.  Meszleny  also  affirms  that  Hebbel's  figures  of  speech 
follow  the  approved  lines  of  the  classicists,  except  that  his 
realism  makes  frequent  room  for  itself  in  the  Shakespearean 
oxymoron,  in  its  broadest  sense. 

Hebbel's  dialogue  at  its  best  may  claim  the  dramatic 
qualities  described  by  him  in  the  essay,  already  quoted,  on 
style  in  the  drama.     He  had  two  particular  dangers  to  over- 


Theory  and  Practice  241 

come:  the  tendency  to  make  his  dialogue  monological, 
burdened  with  long  "asides,"  or  interrupted  only  in  a  per- 
functory manner;  and  second,  the  same  division  into  logic 
and  passion  at  first  noticeable  in  his  language.  In  his 
mature  works  both  of  these  weaknesses  have  been  overcome. 
That  he  was  no  innovator  in  a  technical  sense  is  shown  by  his 
extended  use  of  the  monologue.  He  believed  that  the  mono- 
logue was  justifiable,  even  necessary,  in  order  to  show  the 
dualism  or  essential  contradiction  within  the  character. 
But  he  by  no  means  employed  this  device  indiscriminately. 
Again  a  definite  progress  is  observable.  His  early  dramas 
often  use  monologues  for  exposition  or  for  making  connec- 
tions. Later,  beginning  particularly  with  Herod  and 
Mariamne,  these  forms  practically  disappear.  In  general 
the  monologue  is  of  less  importance  in  the  second  period  of 
his  work.  Hebbel  avoids  in  his  dramas  all  description  and 
narrative  for  their  own  sake,  resolving  such  elements  into  an 
integral  part  of  the  action.  He  is  more  careful  than 
Schiller  to  suppress  reflective  maxims  that  might  be  good  to 
quote  but  ill  suit  the  situation  or  person.  This  function  of 
the  antique  chorus  is  more  rigidly  resolved  into  the  organic 
connection  of  his  dialogue.  When  compared  with  dramas  of 
more  modern  workmanship  Hebbel's  most  realistic  play,  _ 
Mary  Magdalene,  seems  long  out  of  date.  If  it  had  to  de- 
pend on  its  "realism"  in  that  sense  it  would  be  hopelessly 
outclassed.  In  this  respect  Hebbel,  as  Wallberg  says,  was 
behind  his  predecessor,  Kleist,  to  say  nothing  of  his  con- 
temporary, Otto  Ludwig.  This  brings  us  again  to  a  funda- 
mental question  of  Hebbel's  views  on  poetry.  He  said  that 
his  realism  was  psychological.  There  are,  as  we  have  seen, 
certain  realistic  elements  in  his  language,  and  he  usually 
adapts  his  similes  to  the  person  employing  them,  but  even 
that  would  perhaps  be  only  an  illustration  of  his  psycho-  .- 
logical  realism.  He  makes  no  attempt  to  use  dialect,  or  any 
particular  mode  of  speech.  His  strength  lay  in  his  sure 
insight  into  psychic  states  resulting  from  a  given  environ- 
ment, and  it  was  these  which  he  was  most  concerned  to 
show.  The  people  in  Judith  are  presented  from  the  stand- 
point of  their  religious  consciousness,  those  in  Mary  Magda- 


242         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

lene  we  know  to  be  born  and  bred  in  a  narrow  and  stifling 
middle-class  atmosphere,  those  in  the  Nibelungen  are  the 
product  of  a  bold,  untamed  defiance,  of  trust  in  bodily 
strength,  of  conflict  with  wild  nature,  of  intimacy  with  ele- 
mental forces.  Meszleny  has  called  attention  to  the  strik- 
ing effect  of  isolation  on  the  mood,  action,  and  characters 
in  Genoveva.     And  so  of  all  his  great  dramas. 

It  was  consciously,  therefore,  that  Hebbel  turned  away 
from  consistent  realism,  just  as  he  turned  away  from  the 
drama  of  contemporary  social  conditions.  His  reason  is  in- 
structive for  his  whole  attitude  toward  life.  Not  long  before 
his  death  he  wrote  to  Englander  his  final  conclusions  on  the 
functions  and  functioning  of  the  poetic  talent*  To  his 
friend,  who  had  compared  poetic  talent  with  something 
divine,  Hebbel  replied  that  a  more  suitable  position  for  it 
would  be  between  animal  instinct  and  human  reason.  It  is 
a  mistake  to  see  resignation  in  this  statement,  as  has  been 
done  in  several  places.  Hebbel  never  conceded  any  com- 
parative lowering  of  poetry  in  the  scale  of  human  faculties. 
In  this  letter  he  declares  that  life  is  not  a  logical  process, 
not  reducible  to  logic,  and  hence,  as  a  whole,  not  best  inter- 
pretable  by  reason  at  all.  Poetry,  however,  he  says  in  the 
same  place,  is  that  faculty  in  man  by  which  he  can  fathom 
depths  inaccessible  to  him  in  any  other  way.  It  can  do  this 
by  reason  of  that  natural  and  indefinite  rapport  between 
the  poetic,  creative  mind  and  the  life-process.  His  ex- 
planation of  poetic  insight  reminds  us  somewhat  of  Berg- 
son's  explanation  of  the  marvels  of  animal  instinct.  The 
poet  does  not  attempt  to  solve  the  mystery  of  life  in  clear 
terms,  he  merely  follows  out  the  hidden  laws  of  his  nature, 
and  he  is  sure  that  these  laws  are  at  the  same  time  the  laws 
of  life.  What  he  produces  does  not  explain  but  symbolizes. 
The  fruits  of  his  mind  are  not  accidental  prodigies,  they  are 
a  continuation  of  the  processes  of  life,  and  hence  they  neces- 
sarily reflect  these  processes  in  their  essential  nature.  This 
view  at  once  gave  him  firm  ground  for  his  attitude  to  realism. 
Why  should  he  copy  the  world,  when,  as  he  believes,  "the 
imagination  draws  from  the  same  depths  as  those  from 
which  the  world  itself  .  .  .  arose?"     He  felt  himself  bound 


Theory  and  Practice  £43 

to  observe  only  the  laws  of  the  human  mind  as  exactly  as  he 
could. 

Hebbel's  attitude  to  the  stage  underwent,  in  the  course 
of  time,  a  slight  change.  His  own  natural  instinct  for  the 
effective  stage-picture  was  perhaps  somewhat  deficient.  He 
was  not  always  concerned  to  obtain  variety  and  vividness  in 
this  respect.  When  he  wrote  Judith  he  was  uncertain  how 
it  would  appear  on  the  stage,  and  in  Genoveva  he  considered 
the  stage  very  little,  with  the  unfortunate  results  we  have 
seen.  At  first  he  seems  to  have  made  some  sort  of  distinc- 
tion between  the  drama  and  the  stage-play.  He  told  the 
King  of  Denmark  that  under  existing  conditions  there  was  a 
distinction,  though  there  should  be  none.  Later,  however,  he 
always  wrote  with  the  definite  idea  of  having  the  play  given, 
and  his  last  complete  drama,  the  Nibelungen,  was  one  of  his 
most  successful  in  this  respect.  He  gave  no  directions  as 
to  scenery,  costume,  or  acting,  and  apparently  had  little 
interest  in  them.  He  left  such  things  to  be  inferred  from 
his  text.  He  was  opposed  to  realism  on  the  stage  as  in  the 
drama,  and  agreed  with  Laube  in  emphasizing  the  impor- 
tance of  the  spoken  word  above  all  else.  Though  not  slavish 
in  regard  to  the  time  and  place  of  the  action,  he  recognized 
the  value  of  concentration  in  this  particular.  After 
Genoveva  he  made  the  scene  correspond  chiefly  with  the  act, 
until  Agnes  Bernauer  broke  this  rule.  But  his  effort  to 
make  no  unreasonable  demands  of  the  theater  as  it  existed 
is  plain.  When  he  had  anything  to  do  with  the  staging  of 
his  works  he  was  very  willing  to  accept  advice  and  sugges- 
tions. 

We  have  seen  that  Hebbel's  dramas  had  a  very  moderate 
success  on  the  stage  during  his  lifetime.  Laube  denied  that 
they  were  suited  for  the  stage,  while  Dingelstedt  held  the 
opposite  view.  A  well-known  modern  director,  Alfred 
Freiherr  von  Berger,  has  interesting  comments  on  the  same 
matter.  In  his  Dramaturgic  Lectures  (Vienna  1890)  he 
expressed  the  opinion  that  Hebbel,  while  knowing  the  souls 
of  his  characters  as  few  poets  do,  was  less  acquainted  than 
he  should  have  been  with  their  superficial  expression.  In 
1907-08  Freiherr  von  Berger  gave  a  cycle  of  all  Hebbel's 


244         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

plays  in  the  German  Playhouse  in  Hamburg.  Whether  or 
not  this  experience  may  have  modified  his  previous  opinion 
in  any  way,  his  book  entitled  My  Hamburg  Dramaturgy 
(1910)  speaks  somewhat  more  favorably  of  Hebbel.  Here 
he  still  recognizes  in  his  work  great  difficulties,  but  also 
great  possibilities  for  the  careful  director.  Hebbel's  dramas 
are  a  challenge  to  the  stage,  they  represent  a  task  and  an 
education,  a  charm  and  a  reward  for  director  and  actor.7 
The  actual  fate  of  Hebbel's  dramas  on  the  stage  may  now 
be  briefly  indicated.  Ten  of  his  dramas  were  given  two 
hundred  times  in  the  Burgtheater  between  May,  1848,  and 
January,  1884.  (Frankl,  op.  cit.  p.  71.)  These  figures 
cannot,  of  course,  be  measured  by  the  present  day  standards, 
when  practical  conditions  have  entirely  changed.  Mary 
Magdalene  led  the  list,  and  this  play  seems  to  have  had  more 
influence  on  the  stage  than  any  other  written  by  Hebbel. 
The  first  two  parts  of  the  Nibelungen  trilogy,  and  Judith 
followed  closely,  and  then,  at  considerable  distance,  the  third 
part  of  the  trilogy  and  Agnes  Bernauer.  Herod  and 
Mariamne  was  given  only  once,  that  being  the  initial  per- 
formance, as  we  have  seen.  This  drama  was  also  a  failure 
in  Berlin  in  1874.  But  it  met  with  great  success  in  the 
Royal  Playhouse  there  in  1899,  with  Matkowski  as  Herod 
and  Rosa  Poppe  as  Mariamne.  Here  the  Three  Kings,  who 
had  only  aroused  the  amusement  of  the  earlier  audience, 
proved  to  be  quite  effective.  (Biihne  und  Welt,  I  Jahrgang, 
2  Teil,  708.)  Between  October,  1902,  and  September,  1903, 
nine  of  Hebbel's  dramas  were  given,  on  all  stages,  one 
hundred  and  thirty  six  times,  the  most  popular  being  in 
order,  the  Nibelungen  (I  and  II),  Mary  Magdalene,  Judith, 
Nibelungen  III,  and  Gyges.  Herod  and  Mariamne  is  lack- 
ing in  this  list.  A  great  revival  of  Hebbel's  plays  came  in 
the  year  1907-08.  It  is  generally  believed  that  Ibsen's  influ- 
ence in  the  problem  play,  and  his  education  of  actors  and 
audiences,  gradually  opened  the  way  for  Hebbel.  The  cycle 
in  Hamburg  in  1907-08  has  already  been  mentioned.  In 
Berlin  the  Nibelungen  and  Gyges  were  among  the  most  popu- 


1  Op.  cit.,  pp.  205,  215. 


1«t*  -nlnvs 


Theory  and  Practice  245 


lar  plays  of  the  season.  Judith  was  also  much  in  demand. 
At  the  Dresden  Court  Theater  Hebbel  led  all  dramatists  in 
that  season.8  An  interesting  experiment  was  made  with 
Hebbel,  among  others,  by  Ernst  Wachler,  who  gave  the 
dramas  in  the  open,  in  the  Harz  Mountain  Theater  at  Thale, 
in  Aachen  and  elsewhere.  He  gave  the  Moloch  fragment 
successfully  in  1905,  Gyges  in  1909,  and  Genoveva  in  1912. 
He  mentions  particularly  the  effect  of  the  magic  scenes  in 
the  last  named  work.  The  most  successful  play  was  the 
Nibelungen  (I  and  II)  in  1910,  which  was  hailed  by  over- 
flow crowds  as  a  great  popular  spectacle.  On  the  whole, 
however,  Wachler  thinks  the  Shakespearean  form  of  drama 
better  suited  to  out-of-door  performances.  (Biihne  und 
Welt,  16  Jahrgang,  1  Halbjahr,  274.)  It  is  also  interest- 
ing to  notice  that  in  Wesselburen  a  Hebbel  stage  is  sup- 
ported, on  which  simple  working  people  give  his  plays.  This 
stage  has  occupied  the  first  floor  of  the  Hebbel  House  since 
the  opening  of  that  building  in  March,  1911.  The  occasion 
was  celebrated  by  the  presentation  of  the  Nibelungen,  the 
first  part  with  particular  success. 

We  may  close  this  brief  review  of  Hebbel's  dramas  on 
the  stage,  by  quoting  some  more  general  statements  from 
The  Literary  Echo.9  In  the  year  1911-12,  Hebbel's  dramas 
occupied  over  four  hundred  evenings  on  German  stages, 
putting  him  thus  in  the  company  of  Lessing  and  Grillparzer. 
This  was  an  increase  over  the  preceding  year.  "Mary  Mag- 
dalene fell,  to  be  sure,  from  76  to  74,  the  Nibelungen  held  its 
own,  while  Gyges  increased  from  78  to  96."  To  give  a 
standard  for  these  figures,  it  may  be  said  that  Schiller,  as 
second  among  all  authors,  had  1420  evenings,  and  Shake- 
speare, as  fourth,  had  1044.  William  Tell  was  given  329 
times,  the  Merchant  of  Venice  147.  Hebbel's  share  in  the 
classical  repertoire  of  his  country  is,  therefore,  modest  but 
seemingly  assured. 


8  Lit.  Echo,  10  Jahrgang,  1486,  Note. 

8 15  Jahrgang,  949-50,  based  on  the  Buhnenspielplan  for  1911-12. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

CONCLUSION 

IN  October,  1861,  Hebbel  was  in  Hamburg  for  the  purpose 
of  selling  the  Nibelungen  to  Campe  and  arranging  in  a 
preliminary  way  for  the  publication  of  his  complete  works. 
Among  the  letters  he  wrote  home  to  his  wife  one  contains  the 
the  description  of  a  visit  paid  to  his  brother  Johann,  who 
was  living  in  a  little  village  near  the  town  of  Rendsburg  in 
Holstein.  The  poet,  who  expected  at  first  to  find  his  brother 
in  the  town  itself,  discovered  that  he  had  moved  out  the 
distance  of  an  hour's  walk.  An  old  woman  showed  him  the 
direction,  and  he  walked  along  the  sandy  road  between  the 
lonely  fields,  as  he  says,  like  his* own  heath-lad,  with  cows 
grazing  on  either  side  of  him.  Near  a  little  wood  he  found 
the  right  village  and  a  ploughman  pointed  out  to  him  the 
house  he  sought.  In  front  of  the  door  an  oldish  looking 
man  was  cutting  wood.  His  face  was  weather-beaten  and 
well  covered  with  beard.  It  took  a  moment  for  the  two 
brothers  to  recognize  each  other,  as  this  was  their  first  meet- 
ing in  twenty  years.  But  when  the  poet  held  out  his  hand 
and  called  his  brother  by  name,  Johann  let  his  axe  fall, 
struck  upon  his  knees,  ran  his  hands  through  his  hair,  and 
burst  into  convulsive  laughter — all  signs  of  joyous  surprise, 
to  which  the  poet  himself  was  often  subject.  Johann  led 
his  brother  into  the  house.  His  wife  was  a  peasant  woman, 
who  took  things  quietly.  These  two  were  living  about  on  the 
same  level  as  the  poet's  parents  had  lived  back  in  Wessel- 
buren,  though  Johann  insisted  it  was  better.  Little  Conrad, 
blue-eyed  and  pretty  but  very  shy,  came  in  presently  with 
bread,  and  they  drank  coffee  (chickory)  together,  while 
the  neighbor's  children  peeped  in  at  the  door  and  windows. 
Under  the  stove  were  piled  the  only  potatoes  the  family 
possessed,  their  chief  means  of  subsistence.  They  never  ate 
meat.     During  the  conversation  brother  and  wife  got  into 

246 


Conclusion  247 

an  argument  as  to  whether  they  should  buy  wood  or  potatoes 
with  their  next  bit  of  money.  The  poet  settled  this  question 
on  the  spot,  we  may  well  imagine  how!  For  special  enter- 
tainment Johann  blew  on  the  wooden  cuckoo  which  Hebbel's 
little  girl  had  sent  to  Conrad  some  time  before,  and  they  all 
went  out  to  see  the  two  goats  that  furnished  the  family  with 
milk.  Johann,  after  shaving  and  cutting  his  hair,  went 
back  as  far  as  Rendsburg  with  his  brother,  where  they  had 
something  to  eat  and  drink  at  an  inn.  On  the  way  he  con- 
fided that  he  had  married  his  wife  without  ever  seeing  her 
beforehand,  in  order  to  escape  military  service.  He  was 
particularly  anxious  to  know  whether  he  did  not  live  a  little 
better  than  his  father.  He  took  his  famous  brother  to  visit 
a  friend,  as  that  would  help  his  own  credit,  and  seeing  a  torn 
silk  handkerchief  among  the  poet's  belongings  he  asked  for 
it,  so  that  he  might  say:  "This  was  his  worst!" 

Hebbel  was  deeply  moved  by  this  visit,  and  as  he  turned 
his  back  on  his  native  country  forever  no  more  vivid  reminder 
could  have  been  given  him  of  the  conditions  he  had  left  and 
the  distance  he  had  traveled.  He  had  entrusted  himself 
with  courage  to  the  guidance  of  his  talent.  Year  after 
year  he  had  faced  the  bitter  possibility  of  failure  but  at  last 
he  had  reached  a  worthy  goal.  Perhaps  his  greatest 
struggle  had  been  to  resign  the  even  greater  success  he  saw 
almost  within  his  grasp.  Life,  he  used  to  say  to  his  young 
friends,  cannot  be  taken  simply  enough.  "I  came  to  peace 
only  through  resignation  and  learned  to  look  upon  my 
coffin  as  my  bed."1    And  this  resignation  was  never  complete. 

Having  already  anticipated  much  of  what  made  up 
Hebbel's  life  to  the  end,  and  briefly  followed  his  literary  fate 
beyond  that,  it  now  remains  for  us  to  sum  up  the  principal 
biographical  facts  of  his  last  few  years.  Among  his  bitter- 
est experiences  in  these  years  was  the  breach  of  friendship 
between  himself  and  his  truest  disciple,  Emil  Kuh.  The  poet 
contrasted  his  fate  on  this  occasion  with  that  of  Timon  of 
Athens,  who  was  betrayed  by  those  on  whom  he  had  lavished 
material  wealth.     He,  on  the  other  hand,  had  been  betrayed 


1  To  Englander,  Jan.  1,  1860. 


248         The  Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

by  a  man  on  whom  he  had  lavished  all  the  wealth  of  his 
spirit.  His  bitterness  and  suffering  knew  no  bounds,  and 
for  a  time  he  was  seriously  ill  because  of  them.  Yet  he  was 
himself  in  large  part  responsible,  having  carried  his  domina- 
tion to  the  point  where  Kuh  was  no  longer  able  to  endure  it. 
For  the  same  reason  he  was  deserted  by  Debrois  van  Bruyck. 
Shortly  before  this  unfortunate  event  Hebbel  had  definitely 
broken  off  relations  with  Gutzkow  because  the  latter  had 
abused  Kuh  in  his  presence  (end  of  1859).  Though  he 
never  overcame  his  friend's  "desertion,"  he  found  a  measure 
of  solace  in  the  larger  circle  of  acquaintances  that  had 
gradually  gathered  around  him.  These  were  no  longer 
young  men,  as  in  the  beginning  of  his  residence  in  Vienna, 
but  persons  of  mature  mind,  from  all  circles  of  life  and  of 
assured  standing  in  the  world.  There  were  so  many  of 
these  that  Hebbel  was  compelled  to  form  twelve  circles  of 
about  twelve  each,  inviting  one  circle  at  a  time,  and  enter- 
taining those  together  who  were  the  most  congenial.  He 
was  justly  proud  of  being  the  center  of  so  distinguished  a 
group,  mindful  as  he  was  of  his  own  humble  origin.  He 
was  fond  of  conversation,  his  own  thoughts  becoming  clearer 
to  him  in  the  process.  When  he  read  from  his  works  in  these 
gatherings  he  was  exceedingly  sensitive  to  any  interruption. 
The  popularity  that  Hebbel  had  hoped  each  of  his  works 
in  turn  might  bring  him  seemed  at  last  to  come  in  some 
measure  with  his  Nibelungen>  It  was  Dingelstedt  who 
sponsored  this  work.  The  first  two  parts  were  successfully 
given  in  Weimar,  January,  1861.  In  May  of  that  year,  the 
whole  trilogy  was  presented  on  the  same  stage.  It  was  with 
great  difficulty,  in  fact  only  after  a  personal  appeal  from 
the  Grand  Duke  to  the  Austrian  Emperor,  that  Christine 
obtained  a  leave  of  absence  from  the  Burgtheater  in  order 
to  share  in  the  performance.  Dingelstedt,  knowing  that 
Hebbel  and  his  wife  were  not  satisfied  in  Vienna,  proposed 
that  they  come  to  Weimar.  The  Grand  Duke  and  Duchess 
were  in  every  way  favorable  to  this  arrangement,  the  latter 
even  guaranteeing  a  pension  from  her  private  purse  should 
the  theater  be  unable  to  grant  it.  The  two  guests  were 
treated   with   every   mark   of   distinction   and   returned   to 


Conclusion  249 

Vienna  with  the  expectation  that  Weimar  would  be  their 
future  home.  This  expectation,  however,  was  not  realized, 
because,  it  was  said,  of  Dingelstedt's  jealousy  cropping  out 
at  last.  Dingelstedt  denied  this  charge  after  Hebbel's 
death,  and  assigned  the  poet's  dislike  of  a  small  town  as  the 
real  reason  for  the  failure  of  the  plan.  There  may  be  some 
truth  in  this.  Hebbel's  first  impression  of  Weimar  was 
stated  in  the  pithy  sentence:  "In  Weimar  one  should  be 
either  Goethe — or  his  secretary."  On  the  other  hand  we 
know  that  the  Grand  Duchess  herself  warned  Hebbel  of 
Dingelstedt,  whom  she  declared  to  be  un  caractere  abomin- 
able. And  very  opportunely,  too,  Dingelstedt  managed  to 
install  Gutzkow,  with  whom  Hebbel  was  on  poor  terms,  in  an 
important  position  in  the  little  literary  capital,  where  there 
was  no  room  to  avoid  one's  enemies.  But  whatever  Dingel- 
stedt may  have  done  in  this  matter,  the  value  of  his  services 
to  Hebbel  remains  unshaken  and  Hebbel  never  forgot  it. 
Vienna,  on  the  other  hand,  now  seemed  willing  to  make  some 
reparation  for  past  neglect.  Laube  was  constrained  to  give 
the  first  two  parts  of  the  Nibelungen,  and  the  whole  episode 
ended  in  a  wholesome  growth  of  Hebbel's  fame. 

Hebbel's  interest  in  public  affairs  was  reflected  in  a  long 
poem  he  wrote  in  the  summer  of  1861,  on  occasion  of  the 
attempt  made  by  a  student  to  assassinate  the  king  of  Prussia. 
A  similar  attempt  made  upon  the  life  of  the  Austrian  emperor 
eight  years  before  had  also  been  used  by  him  as  an  oppor- 
tunity for  an  important  utterance.  The  position  taken  in 
both  of  these  poems  was,  that  the  monarch  had  been  spared 
in  order  to  accomplish  the  great  purpose  of  uniting  all  Ger- 
many under  one  leadership.  Then  it  had  been  Austria,  now 
it  was  Prussia.  Hebbel  particularly  emphasized  the  neces- 
sity of  a  united  Germany  if  German  civilization  was  not  to 
perish  as  Roman  civilization  had  perished.  He  had  in  a 
measure  turned  away  from  Austria  in  disappointment.  He 
was  now  doomed  to  the  additional  disappointment  that  no 
notice  was  taken  of  his  new  warning  by  those  in  power.  So 
much  the  more  notice  of  it  was  taken  by  the  slavic  portions 
of  Austro-Hungary,  to  whom  he  referred  in  the  poem  as  the 
"menial  nations."     By  this  he  merely  meant  that  they  had 


250         The  Life  and   Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel 

not  yet  attained  any  world-leadership.  A  storm  of  protest 
was  raised  by  the  expression,  the  whole  episode  ending,  as 
Hebbel  said,  by  Czechs  and  Poles  abusing  one  another  in  the 
restaurants  in  terms  of  his  poem.  While  this  was  a  self- 
imposed  public  task,  he  was  officially  chosen  to  write  the 
Prologue  for  the  ceremonies  attending  the  adoption  of  the 
Austrian  Constitution  (February,  1862).  To  be  sure, 
three  poets  had  refused  before  he  was  asked,  but  he  did  not 
discover  that  until  twelve  months  later. 

In  the  summer  of  1862,  Hebbel,  true  to  his  old  habit,  set 
out  on  another  journey.  At  the  instance  of  Marshall,  an 
Englishman  by  birth  and  the  secretary  of  the  Grand  Duchess 
of  Weimar,  he  decided  to  visit  London.  In  that  city  he  also 
had  the  great  pleasure  of  renewing  his  acquaintance  with 
Englander,  who  was  living  there.  Marshall  and  Englander 
showed  him  the  city,  which  seemed  to  him  like  a  huge 
leviathan.  Like  Grillparzer,  he  was  chiefly  impressed  with 
the  sturdy  character  of  the  people,  their  respect  for  them- 
selves and  their  laws,  in  general  with  what  he  termed  their 
healthy  egotism.  To  Hebbel  also  the  English  Sunday  seemed 
a  strange  institution. 

In  August  of  that  summer  the  poet  was  invited  to  Wil- 
helmstal  by  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Weimar,  where  he  spent 
pleasant  days  with  an  intimate  circle  of  friends,  among 
whom  were  Marshall  and  Adolf  Scholl.  The  latter  in  his 
Recollections  of  Friedrich  Hebbel  has  given  us  a  vivid  im- 
pression of  the  poet's  bearing  under  the  conditions.  He 
was  perfectly  natural  and  at  his  ease,  a  charming  companion, 
without  any  inclination  to  distinguish  himself  in  conversation 
or  in  any  other  way.  Thus  he  responded  to  the  delicate 
tactfulness  of  his  hostess.  He  had  now  probably  mastered 
those  mysterious  forms,  the  lack  of  which  had  once  caused 
him  such  bitter  moments.  He  still  retained  a  severe 
formality  when  he  desired  to  stand  on  his  dignity.  An 
amusing  note  to  Laube  is  preserved,  which  is  signed  by 
Doctor  Friedrich  Hebbel,  followed  by  his  orders  with  their 
classes  in  detail.  He  was  fond  of  wearing  the  red  ribbon  of 
the  Weimar  Order  of  the  Falcon,  and  he  had  made  for 
certain  occasions  some  cards  on  which,  in  addition  to  his 


Conclusion  £51 

name,  appeared  the  words,  Chevalier  de  plusieurs  ordres — 
to  the  ridicule  of  his  enemies. 

Hebbel  was  taken  away  from  life  at  the  very  height  of 
his  powers,  his  happiness,  and  his  fame.  The  success  of  his 
Nibelungen  in  the  Burgtheater-  had  made  him  the  literary 
man  of  the  day.  The  University  students  especially  vied 
with  one  another  in  showing  him  honor.  His  home  life  was 
all  that  he  desired.  He  knew  how  to  enjoy,  as  they  came, 
the  simple  pleasures  of  domestic  life,  how  to  be  a  companion 
to  his  wife  and  romp  with  his  child.  He  had  once  expressed 
the  wish  that  he  might  work  to  the  last  and  perish  in  the 
fire  of  the  last  poem.  This  too  was  granted  him.  On  his 
deathbed  he  was  busy  with  Demetrius.  The  malady  with 
which  he  suffered  is  rare  in  men,  a  gradual  softening  of 
the  bones.  At  various  times  he  had  been  subject  to  severe 
attacks  of  rheumatic  pain,  a  particularly  bad  spell  falling, 
for  example,  in  the  summer  of  1859.  These  attacks  over- 
took him  with  violence  in  1863,  refusing  to  yield  to  medical 
treatment  when  he  went  for  his  usual  rest  in  Gmunden,  and 
after  that  to  Baden  for  the  baths.  During  the  last  months 
his  suffering  was  intense.  He  carried  poison  on  his  person 
with  the  idea  that  it  might  be  necessary  for  him  to  put  an 
end  to  his  suffering.  The  closing  weeks  of  his  life  were 
spent  in  bed. 

To  Hebbel's  great  joy  Emil  Kuh  came  to  see  him  at  the 
end,  and  their  reconciliation  was  among  his  last  happy 
moments.  One  month  before  he  died  he  heard  that  his 
Nibelungen  had  received  the  Schiller  prize.  That  is  human 
fate,  he  said — either  we  lack  the  cup  or  we  lack  the  wine. 
He  died  on  December  13,  1863,  the  immediate  cause  being 
pneumonia.  He  was  buried  two  days  later  at  the  Matzleins- 
dorfer  cemetery.  His  body  was  borne  to  rest  by  students 
from  the  University,  and  accompanied  by  a  great  crowd,  in 
spite  of  the  pouring  rain. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Throughout  the  volume  the  references  to  Hebbel's  works  have 
been  to:  Friedrich  Hebbel,  Samtliche  Werke,  Historisch-krit- 
ische  Ausgabe,  besorgt  von  R.  M.  Werner,  Berlin,  1904,  and  fol- 
lowing. T.=Tagebuch,  W.=Werke,  Br.=Briefe.  The  well- 
known  biographies  by  R.  M.  Werner  and  Emil  Kuh  are  referred 
to  by  these  names  respectively. 

The  following  titles  are  referred  to  the  page  (P.)  and  line 
(1.)  of  this  book. 

P.   17,  1.  8:  See  Friedrich  Hebbels  Philosophische  Jugendlyrik, 
von  Dr.   Paul  Zincke,    1908;   Studien  zu  Hebbels  Jugend- 
lyrik, von  Johannes   Maria  Fischer,   1910.     The  view  that 
Schelling  influenced  Hebbel's  early  poetry,  as  advanced  by 
Dr.   Alfred   Neumann    (Aus   Friedrich   Hebbels   Werdezeit, 
1899)    and  widely  accepted,   seems   to   me   untenable   after 
Zincke's  work. 
P.  18,  1.  1:  Fischer  (op.  cit.  under  P.  17),  p.  22. 
P.  21,  1.  24:  Hebbel-Kalender  fur   1905,  ein  Jahrbuch  heraus- 
gegeben    von    Richard    Maria    Werner   und    Walter    Block, 
Berlin   1904,  p.   136  f. 
P.  41,  1.  5:  See  Ernst  Lahnstein,  Das  Problem  der  Tragik  in 

Hebbels  Fruhzeit,  1909,  p.  77  f. 
P.  48,  1.  2:  Friedrich  Hebbel  und  sein  Drama,  Beitrage  zur 
Poetik,  Berlin,  1900.  The  relation  of  Schiller's  Jungfrau 
von  O.  to  Judith  has  been  discussed  in  various  places: 
Schillers  Einfluss  auf  die  Jugenddramen  Hebbels,  E.  O. 
Eckelmann,  1906;  Hebbels  Judith  und  Schillers  Jungfrau, 
von  Dr.  Wilhelm  Henzen,  1907;  Schiller  and  Hebbel,  by 
Professor  W.  G.  Howard,  Publications  M.L.A.  of  America, 
N.S.,  5,  1907. 
P.    50,    Footnote:    See   Hebbels  Dramen,   von   Heinrich   Meyer- 

Benfey,  Erstes  Heft,  p.  31. 
P.  53,  1.  13:  Meyer-Benfey  (op.  cit.  under  P.  50),  p.  152  f. 
P.  54.   1.  39:  For  a  general  discussion  of  Hebbel's  attitude  to 
woman,  see   Mrs.   Clara  Newport,   Woman  in  the   Thought 
and  Work  of  Friedrich  Hebbel,  Madison,  Wis.,  1912. 
P.  57,  1.  9:  Meyer-Benfey  (op.  cit.  under  P.  50),  p.  161. 

253 


254  Bibliography 

P.  59,  1.1:  See  Karl  Zeiss,  Hebbel  und  Nietzsche,  Beilage  zur 
Allgemeinen  Zeitung,  Nr.  212,  1900.  Also  Hebbel's  Werke 
I.,  p.  413.  The  Hamburg  version  was  worked  out  inde- 
pendently by  Hebbel. 

P.  59,  1.  8:  Hebbel-Kalender  (op.  cit.  under  P.  21),  pp.  214, 
218. 

P.  59,  1.  16:  Review  by  E.  Meyen,  Halle  Jahrbiicher,  August, 
1840.  Reprinted  by  Wiitschke,  Hebbel  in  der  zeitgenos- 
sischen  Kritik,   Berlin,    1910. 

P.  59,  1.  20:  See  Hebbel-Kalender  (op.  cit.  under  P.  21). 

P.  62,  1.  4:  See  Ludwig  Levin,  Beitrag  zu  einem  Psychogram, 
1913,  p.  33. 

P.  64,  1.  20:  For  these  statements  and  the  analysis  following 
see  the  excellent  essay  by  Richard  Meszleny:  Friedrich 
Hebbels    Qewpveva,    Hebbelforschungen    4,    Berlin,    1910. 

P.   70,  1.15:  Op.  cit.    (under  P.  64),  p.   140  f. 

P.  75,  1.  16:  Westermanns  Jahrbuch  der  Illustrierten  Deutschen 
Monatshefte.  Oktober,  1857 — Marz,  1858.  Reprinted  in 
Wiitschke  (op.  cit.  under  P.  59),  No.  28,  as  probably  by 
Emil  Kuh. 

P.  75,  1.  35:  See  also  Fischer,  Vorbilder,  Theorie  und  Rhythmus 
von  Hebbels  Jugendlyrik,   1910. 

P.  75,   1.  37:  Op.  cit.  under  P.   17. 

P.  76,  1.9:  Der  junge  Hebbel,  W eltanschauungen  und  fruheste 
Jugendwerhe,  unter  BeriicJcsichtigung  des  sp'dteren  Systems 
und  der  durchgehenden  Ansichten,  1908. 

P.  77,  1.  33:  Op.  cit.  (under  P.  76),  p.  173  and  note. 

P.  83,  1.  36:  See  No.  203  in  Wiitschke  (op.  cit.  under  P.  59). 

P.  94,  1.  29:  See  Eloesser,  Das  biirgerliche  Drama,  Berlin, 
1898,  p.    194   f. 

P.  110,  1.  27:  Der  Pantragismus  als  System  der  Weltanschauung 
und  Aesthetik  Friedrich  Hebbels,  dargestellt  von  Arno 
Scheunert,  Hamburg  und  Leipzig,  1903,  p.  43  f. 

P.   Ill,  1.  2:  Op.  cit.  (under  P.  110),  pp.  70-71. 

P.  113,  1.  38:  See  Wilhelm  Waetzoldt,  Hebbel  und  die  Philoso- 
phic seiner  Zeit,  1903,  p.  39  f.  The  expression  Hebbel 
uses  is  Berechtigung  der  Idee.  He  first  wrote  Beschaffen- 
heii  der  Idee,  but  changed  it.  See  the  critical  note  in  the 
Werke.  For  traces  in  his  thought  of  this  evolutionary  con- 
ception prior  to  his  stay  in  Paris,  see  esp.  O.  Walzel, 
Friedrich  Hebbel  und  seine  Dramen,  Berlin,  1913,  p.  46  f. 

P.  114,  1,  25:  The  following  account  is  based  largely  on 
Wilhelm  Waetzoldt  (op.  cit.  under  P.  113),  O.  F.  Walzel, 


Bibliography  255 

Hebbelprobleme,  Leipzig,  1909;  Elise  Dosenheimer,  Fried- 
rich  Hebbels  Auffassung  vom  Staat  und  sein  Trauerspiel 
Agnes  Bernauer,  Leipzig,  1912;  A.  Kutscher,  Friedrich 
Hebbel  als  Kritiker  des  Dramas,  Berlin,  1907;  Dr.  Paul 
Zincke,  op.  cit.  under  P.   17. 

P.  115,  1.  18:  Alfred  Neumann,  in  an  article  entitled  Aus  Fried- 
rich  Hebbels  Werdezeit,  first  advocated  this  view,  which 
found  wide  acceptance. 

P.  116,  1.  10:  Dosenheimer,  op.  cit.  (under  P.  114),  p.  153. 

P.  116,  1.  34:  Dosenheimer,  op.  cit.  (under  P.  114),  P.  182. 
Also  for  this  paragraph,  ibid.,  p.  181,  and  Waetzoldt,  op. 
cit.   (under  P.   114),  pp.  28,  31-33. 

P.  117,  1.  29:  Kutscher,  op.  cit.  (under  P.  114),  p.  180. 

P.  118,  1.  32:  Scheunert,  op.  cit.  (under  P.  110),  p.  329,  in 
criticism  of  Johannes  Krumm:  Hebbel,  der  Genius. 

P.  118,  1.  34:  Scheunert,  op.  cit.  (under  P.  110),  p.  219- 

P.   119,  1.  6:  Walzel,  op.  cit.    (under  P.   114),  p.  44. 

P.  119,  1.  8:  Zu  Hebbels  Anschauungen  iiber  Kunst  und  kilnst- 
lerisches  Schaffen,  Archiv  fur  systematische  Philosophic,  13, 
242  f. 

P.  124,  1.  19:  Hebbel-Kalender  (op.  cit.  under  P.  21),  p.  197  f. 

P.  131,  1.  10:  Hebbel-Kalender  (op.  cit.  under  P.  21),  p.  173  f. 

P.   144,  1.  21:  Das  Burgtheater,  Chapter  XX. 

P.  146,  1.  11:  Jahrbiicher  der  Gegenwart,  Tubingen,  1847-  Re- 
published in  Altes  und  Neues,  Neue  Folge,  Stuttgart, 
1889- 

P.  153,  1.  25:  Friedrich  Hebbels  Brief wechsel  mit  Freunden  und 
beriihmten  Zeitgenossen.  Hrsg.  von  Felix  Bamberg,  Vol. 
II. 

P.  170,  1.  3:  See  also  Bornstein,  Hebbels  Herodes  und 
Mariamne,  Hamburg  und  Leipzig,  1904. 

P.  176,  1-9:  Hebbels  Verhaltnis  zur  Religion,  Joachim  Frenkel, 
Berlin,  1907;  Ernst  Horneffer,  Hebbel  und  das  religiose 
Problem  der  Gegenwart,  Jena,  1907;  and  esp.  Otto 
Frommel,  Neuere  deutsche  Dichter  in  ihrer  religiosen  Stell- 
ung,    1902. 

P.  181,  1.  38:  A.  Freiherr  von  Berger^  Meine  Hamburgische 
Dramaturgic  Wien,   1910. 

P.  182,  1.  9:  Heinrich  Laubes  Prinzip  der  Theaterleitung,  1908. 

P.  182,  1.  22:  A.  von  Weilen,  Jahrbuch  der  Shakespeare  Gesell- 
schaft,  Bd.  43. 

P.  182,  1.  24:  Op.  cit.  (under  P.  181),  the  chapter  on  Laube. 

P.  195,  1.  33:  Dosenheimer,  op.  cit.  (under  P.  114),  p.  25. 


256  Bibliography 

P.  196,  1.  7:  Dosenheimer,  op.  cit.  (under  P.  114),  Chapter 
VIII. 

P.  211,  1.  6:  A  careful  study  of  Mutter  und  Kind  has  been 
made  by  Fritz  Enss,  in  a  Marburg  dissertation,  1909-  My 
account  of  the  work,  however,  is  not  based  on  this  study 
in  any  particular   respect. 

P.  216,  1.  1 :  For  the  whole  subject  see,  Annina  Periam:  Hebbel's 
Nibelungen,  its  sources,  method  and  style.  The  Columbia 
University   Press,   1906. 

P.  220,  1.  14:  Compare  also,  A.  Scholl,  Meine  Erinnerungen  an 
Friedrich  Hebbel.     Preussische  Jahrbiicher,  Bd.  41,   1878. 

P.  222,  1.  8:  For  the  following  paragraphs,  see  Paul  Bornstein, 
Lit.  Echo,  10.  Jahrgang,  Heft  21-22,  1479-99-  Also 
Kulke's  Erinnerungen  an  Friedrich  Hebbel. 

P.  222,  1.  24:  For  the  various  estimates  of  Hebbel's  musical  in- 
sight, see  A.  Stiibing,  Friedrich  Hebbels  Dramen  als  Opern, 
1911,  p.  4. 

P.  232,  1.  31:  Two  interesting  essays  on  the  subject  mentioned 
in  this  paragraph  are:  Die  Tragbdie  Friedrich  Hebbels. 
Ihre  Stellung  und  Bedeutung  in  der  Entwickelung  des 
Dramas.  Von  Johannes  Krumm,  Berlin,  1908;  and  Heb- 
bels Stellung  zu  Shakespeare.  Von  Dr.  Wilhelm  Alberts. 
Berlin,  1908. 

P.  234,  1.  11:  Gesammelte  Schriften,  Leipzig,  1891.  5.  Bd.,  p. 
358. 

P.  237,  1.  39:  An  extended  comparison  between  Hebbel  and 
Ibsen  has  been  made  by  Professor  Joseph  Wiehr:  Hebbel 
und  Ibsen  in  ihren  Anschauungen  verglichen.  Stuttgart, 
1908.     My  summary  is  based  largely  on  his  work. 

P.  238,  1.  39:  For  Hebbel's  language  I  have  consulted  chiefly 
the  following  special  studies:  Stilistische  Studien  zu  Heb- 
bels Tragbdien,  Heinrich  Deiters,  Berlin,  1911;  Hebbels 
Stil  in  seinen  ersten  Tragbdien — Judith  und  Genoveva, 
Edgar  Wallberg,  Berlin,  1909:  Studien  zu  Hebbels  Wort- 
wahl,  P.  Knutzen,  1912;  Das  Drama  Friedrich  Hebbels, 
Albert  Malte  Wagner,  Hamburg  und  Leipzig,  1911  (This 
also  for  dramatic  style)  ;  Meszleny,  op.  cit.  under  P.  64. 

P.  239,  1.  33:  Knutzen,  op.  cit.  under  P.  238. 

P.  240,  1.  3:  Wallberg,  op.  cit.  under  P.  238. 

P.  240,  1.  11:  For  a  detailed  analysis  of  his  lyric  poetry  from 
this  point  of  view,  see  Albert  Edward  Gubelmann*:  Studies 
in  the  Lyric  Poems  of  Friedrich  Hebbel.  Yale  University 
Press,  1912. 


Bibliography  257 

P.  240,  1.  33:  Meszleny,  op.  cit.  (under  P.  64) ,  pp.  152-160. 
P.  240,  1.  37:  For  this  paragraph,  see  Wagner  and  Wallberg, 

op.  cit.  under  P.  238. 
P.   243,    1.    3:   A   discussion   of  this   subject   may  be   found   in 

Eugen   Tannenbaum's  Friedrich  Hebbel  und  das   Theater. 

Berlin,  1914. 
P.  244,  1.  34:  Hebbel-Kalender  (Vid.  under  P.  21),  p.  232. 


INDEX 


Actress,  the,   183 

Agnes  Bernauer,   186,   194,   195; 

sources   of,   189 
Alberti,  23 

Allgemeine  Zeitung,  148,  160 
Anacreontic,  81 
Anna,  28 
Antigone,   106 

Bamberg,  Felix,  92,  99,  111,  144 

Barber  Zitterlein,  24 

Berlin,    187 

Borne,  30 

Brockhaus,   46 

Burgtheater,   the,   161,    186 

Byron,  Lord,  84,   121 

Campe,  36,  44,  47,  60,  99,  122 

Chamisso,  81 

Christian    VIII.,    84,    89 

Clara,    74 

Consciousness  in  the  poet,   150 

Contessa,  25 

Copenhagen,  84,  85,  86,  91 

Cotta,  35,  47,  60,  99 

Deinhardtstein,  130 

Demetrius,  212,  223,  225 

Dethlefsen,  12,  15 

Diamond,   the,   72,   74 

Dialogue,   240 

Diary,  the,  102 

Dietrichstein,  130 

Dingelstedt,  186,  192,  212,  249 

Ditmarsh,  9,  10,  44 

Ditmarsh  and  Eierstedt  Messen- 
ger,   17 

Drama,  history  and,  107;  plot  and 
character  in,  107;  social  and  his- 
torical, 108;  reconciliation  in, 
108;  of  social  criticism,  113, 
142;  second  period  of,  143 

Dramatic  plans,  31 

Dramatic  style,  on,  147 

Duller,  83 


Enghaus,  Christine,  133,  134,  187 
England,  250 
Englander,  131 
Epigrams,  154 

Feucb^ersleben,  197 

Feuerbach,  176 

Fischer,   Kuno,   210 

Form,   Hebbel's  new,  6 

Francis  Joseph,   178 

Fratricide,  18 

Freiherr  von  Berger,  182,  243 


212;  sources  of,  64;    sequel  to,  69 
Ghosts,  137 
Gmunden,  207 
Goedike,  123 
Gorres,  40 

Goethe,  28,  30,  80,  128,  210 
Gottingen,  42 
Gravenhorst,   23 
Greeks,  the,  112,  232 
Grenzboten,  28 
Grillparzer,  59,  130 
Gurlitt,  L.,  124,  125,  128,  186 
Gutzkow,    28,   36,   44,   45,   59,    122, 

197,  249 
Gyges  and  His  Ring,  198,  199 

Halm,    131,    133 

Hamburg,  22,  23,  43,  84 

Hauff,  Hermann,  24 

Hebbel,  born,  9;  parents,  11,  12, 
13;  in  school,  11,  13,  15;  home 
life,  12,  13;  at  work  for  Mohr, 
15,  16;  first  attempts,  17;  early 
love  affairs,  19;  a  Danish  sub- 
ject, 84;  granted  pension,  90; 
appearance,  92;  first  son,  92, 
121;  marries,  134;  children  die, 
147;  in  the  revolution,  160;  on 
Herod  and  Mariamne,  170;  and 
Shakespeare,  170,  232,  235;  as 
editor,  178;  and  the  reaction  in 


259 


260 


Index 


Vienna,    179;    and    Laube,    179; 

and  the  critics,  183;  friends,  186; 

theory     and     practice,     230-231; 

and  the  Greeks,  233;  and  Ibsen, 

237;     language,     237;     dialogue, 

240;  death,  251. 
Hebbel,  Johann,  246 
Hedde,  20 

Hegel,  40,  103,  105,  113,  117 
Heiberg,   108 
Heidelberg,  25 
Heine,  80,  81,  120 
Hemmingstedt,    10 
Hermann  und  Dorothea,  210 
Herod  and  Mariamne,  160;  sources 

of,   161 
Hettner,  H.,  124,  129 
Heyse,  Paul,  211 
History,  theory  of,  62 
Hoffmann,  influence  of,  18 
Holbein,    141,    161 
Holion,  18 
Hiilsen,  Baron  von,  187 

Ibsen,  5,  6,  97,  237 

Ihering,  42,  43 

Individuality  defined,  5 

Individuation,  life  as,  105 

Isolation,  26 

Italian,  Hebbel  and,  124 

Italy,  influence  of,  125,  126,  128 

Janinski,  91 

Jean  Paul,  30,  31,  32 

Joan  of  Arc,  62 

Johann,  24 

Judith,  47;  and  Schiller's  Jung- 
frau,  48;  sources  of,  48;  prob- 
lems in,  54;  the  Universal  in,  56; 
weaknesses  of,  57;  on  the  stage, 
58,  161;  contemporarv  estimates 
of,  59 

Julia,  137,  143;  preface  to,  141 

Kiel,  university  of,  85 

Kleist,   H.   von,   28,   79,    104;   and 

Korner,  25 
Klinger,  82 
Kolbenheier,  It.,  124 
Kuh,  Emil,  75,  111,  123,  186,  247, 

251 
Kiihne,  146 
Kiistner,  141 


Language,   239 

Laube,  H.,  24,  36,  141,  144,  181 
Lebrun,  20 

Lensing,  Elise,  23,  28,  30,  39,  41, 
42,  43,  47,  61,  64,  87,  92,  93,  121, 

122,  125,  134,  146,  198 
Lessing  74 

Letters,  102 

Liszt,  212 

Literary  Club  in  Hamburg,  24 

London,  250 

Ludwig,  Otto,  171,  235 

Lyric  poems,  26;  theory  of,  34;  in 
Munich,  35;  published,  75;  phi- 
losophy of,  76;  the  Universal  in, 
78;  form  of,  82 

Marriage,  Hebbel's  attitude  to,  41 

Marshall,  250 

Mary   Magdalene,   92,   94,  99,   114, 

123,  144,  161;  preface  to,  111 
Marx,  Karl,  120 
Metternich,  198 
Michelangelo,  177 
Minstrel's  Curse,  the,  17 
Mirandola,  18 
Mittermaier,  41 

Mohr,  15,  16,  21 

Moloch,  74,  173;  influences  on,  175 

Moltke,  Count,  85 

Mommsen,  Theodor,  124 

Morgenblatt,  24,  28,  106 

Morike,  E.,  39,  80,  153 

Mother  and  Child,  208 

Mr.  Haidvogel,  24 

Munich,     28,    30;     correspondence 

from,  30 
My  Childhood,  11 

Naples,  128,  129 
New  Poems,  151 
Nibehingen,  211,  213,  216,  249,  251 

Oehlenschlager,  20,  84,  87,  122,  123 

Painter,  the,  18 

Paris,  91,  120 

Paul's  Most  Remarkable  Night,  M 

Pessimism,  39 

Personality,  Hebbel's,  7 

Raimund,  172 
Raupach,  71 
Realism,  57,  241 


N> 


Index 


261 


Religion,  Hebbel  and,  175 

Rendtorf,   28 

Rettich,  Madam,  133 

Revolution  of  1848,  160 

Bobber  Bride,  the,  18 

Rome,  123 

Rousseau,  26,  28,  30,  39;  death  of, 

17 
Rousseau,  Charlotte,  46 
Rousseau,  the  elder,  85,  123 
Rubenstein,  211 
Buby,  the,  34,   172 
Ruge,  A.,  120 

Schelling,  40,  103,  115 

Scheunert,  76,  77,  103,  110 

Schiller,  17,  147,  224 

Schiller's  Jungfrau,  63 

Schmalz,  Pastor,  23 

Schmidt,  Julian,  184 

Schnock,  31,  32,  33,  46 

Schoppe,  Amalia,  20,  21,  23,  47,  58, 

195;  memorial  to,  84 
Scholl,  A.,  250 
Schroder,  Emma,  61,  64 
Schwab,  Gustav,  28 
Schwarz,  Josepha,  42,  94 
Shakespeare,  107,  112,  232,  235 
Shaw,  B.,  53 
Sicilian  Sisters,  the,  151 
Solger,  40,  103,  116 
Spring's  Sacrifice,  126 
Stage,  Hebbel  and  the,  243,  244 
Stich-Crelinger,  Madam,  58,  71,  99 
Stories,  a  volume  of,  205 

Taillandier,  Saint  Rene,  9,  73,  196 
Telegraph,  the,  36,  45 


Theory,  dramatic,  10» 

Thibaut,  26 

Thirty   Years'  War,  62 

Thorwaldsen,  87,  88 

Tieck,  39,  46,  107,  188 

Tragedy,  life  as,  103;  reconcilia- 
tion in,  105;  guilt  in,  106;  func- 
tion in  life,  109 

Tragedy  in  Sicily,  136 

Tubingen,  28 

Uechtritz,  Friedrich  von,  176,  198 
Uhland,  17,  20,  28,  35,  39 


Vesuvius,  129 

Vienna,  130,  131,  141,  145 

Vischer,  Fr.  Th.,  97,  99,   111,  146, 

234 
Volkelt,  234 

Wagner  and  Hebbel,  222 

Walzel,  O.  F.,  118 

Weber,    147 

Weimar,  212,  248 

Weiss,  25 

Werner,  R.  M.,  102 

Wesselburen,  9,  25 

Wienbarg,  36,  59 

Wihl,  44,  62 

Wittgenstein,  Princess  Marie,  212 

Word  about  the  Drama,  a,  106 

Young  Germans,  26,  36,  37,  38 

Zerboni,  Wilhelm  von,  132 


STUDIES     IN     LITERATURE 


The  Story  of  English  Speech.    By  Charles  Noble. 

Shakespeare    Study    Programs:     The    Tragedies. 
By  Charlotte  Porter  and  Helen  A.  Clarke. 

Shakespeare  Study  Programs:   The  Comedies.    By 
Charlotte  Porter  and  Helen  A.  Clarke. 

Browning  Studies.    By  V.  C.  Harrington. 

Hamlet,  an  Ideal  Prince.    By  A.  W.  Crawford. 

A  History  of  English  Literature.    By  Robert  H. 
Fletcher. 

English  Essayists.    By  William  H.  Davis. 

The  Literary  Style  of  the  Prophetic  Books   of 
the  English  Bible.     By  David  Henry  Kyes. 

Present  Day  American  Poetry,  and  Other  Essays. 
By  Harry  Houston  Peckham. 

A   History   of  Italian  Literature.     By  Florence 
Traill. 

The  Reign  of  the  Manuscript.    By  Perry  Wayland 
Sinks. 

German  Liberty  Authors.     By  Warren  Washburn 
Florer. 

The  Influence  of  French  Literature  on  Europe. 
By  Emetine  M.  Jensen. 

The  Novels  of  Ferdinand  Fabre.   By  Ray  P.  Bowen. 

Life  and  Works  of  Friedrich  Hebbel.    By  T.  Af. 
Campbell. 

Ibsen  in  Germany.    By  William  H.  EUer. 


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